The Colloquially Termed 'Marriage Law'
by lozlol
Summary: After the Second Wizarding War depletes the population the Ministry makes a controversial decision to pair off young wizards and witches based on a personality test, which produces couples who'd never think of being with each other. The biggest surprise, both to themselves and those around them, is the know-it-all Muggleborns and the snotty blood supremacist.
1. Chapter I

**_After the Second Wizarding War depletes the population the Ministry makes a controversial decision to pair off young wizards and witches based on a personality test, which produces couples who'd never think of being with each other. The biggest surprise, both to themselves and those around them, is the know-it-all Muggleborns and the snotty blood supremacist. Even if they are logically compatible, it in no way means that this will be easy._**

 ** _AN: This story won't be too explicit but be forewarned that there is a rape scene and some sparse bad language. It takes places after the war but most people return to Hogwarts to repeat their final year, and every five chapters there will be a flash forward to give you a scene with the kids._**

 _ **Chapter I:**_

This year would be the first time in Hogwarts' history that two year groups would be merged. Because of the chaos of last year it had been decided that exams were cancelled, the school year ended early and all of the year groups would repeat the one they'd just had, meaning there'd be an extra large First Year, although Molly told them it was more like the size Hogwarts classes had been before the last war. There was a whole host of prefects from three year groups and a new head boy and girl, Hermione was glad; it would have been strange to leave Hogwarts without achieving this final step. She wasn't thrilled about her co-worker though. Somehow Malfoy had gotten the job, despite the fact that all he ever seemed to do in class was leer and circulate cruel jibes. Hopefully they could just divide and conquer for most of the year: it had worked yesterday at least. They'd had to meet with McGonagall on the train for a talk, and then give one to the prefects, but afterwards they'd returned to their respective friends and once the train stopped she'd gone ahead to direct the actual First Years (who hadn't been here last year) to the Great Hall whilst he'd waited at the station to ensure no-one was left behind. After the banquet the prefects had escorted the First Years to their common rooms whilst they had gone to their respective ones to hang out with their friends and managed to skip back into their rooms without encountering each other. Maybe she was being harsh, the war had changed everyone, and last time she'd seen him he had refused to give up their identities at Malfoy Manor. Hoisting her bag onto her shoulder Hermione headed for the door to leave their common room, but was blocked by an arm. Slowly following the skinny pasty thing up to its owner, she found that the head boy was staring down his nose at her coldly. She hadn't ever really been this close to him to realise how much taller than her he was, and she struggled to draw herself up higher on her toes so that he didn't have the upper hand. "I got here first, mudblood. And unless you want people to think untoward things, I'd recommend waiting a good five minutes before you follow me out."

She scowled, outraged and yes, alright, a little disappointed that she'd been wrong to briefly, foolishly hope. "Have you never heard the phrase 'ladies first' Malfoy?"

He guffawed, legitimately guffawed, looking as if he might pat her on the head like a delighted owner would it's pet. "Lady!" He chuckled to himself as he left through the portrait. "That's a good one." For a moment Hermione just stood there in a stunned surprise. Then she realised by waiting she was doing what he wanted, so she marched out right after him. He'd disappeared down the corridor though. Good riddance. Fingers crossed that would be their only interaction for the day, preferably the week. Unfortunately although he'd left her presence she just couldn't get him out of her head. She continued cursing him silently the whole walk down to breakfast and once she reached the Great Hall and thudded down next to Harry her complaints became vocal. "He's the most obnoxious, hateful, discriminatory, vulgar heathen I've ever encountered!" She spluttered.

Harry patted her back comfortingly and across from her Ron surmised her thoughts into a beautiful, eloquent statement. "Slimy git."

"Maybe you should complain to McGonagall," Harry suggested naively.

Hermione shook her head. "She's desperate for house unity after the war split us further than ever before." Besides, Malfoy had been acting like this for their whole educational lives, and he hadn't been thrown out because of it yet. Once every table was seated McGonagall surprisingly stood up. "Could sixth and seventh years remain seated after breakfast?" She requested in her familiar Scottish brogue.

It was strange. The head teacher always made a speech on the first day but on the second everyone usually just got on quietly. "What do you think that's about?" Hermione asked the question, hearing it echo around her as everyone else did too. Except her friends. They continued to stuff their faces with sausages and bacon, thrilled to indulge in the incredible Hogwarts food again instead of the vegetarian diet of leaves and berries they'd been living off this time last year. When Hermione looked at them expectantly they both just shrugged. She, however, could multi-task. As she dipped her spoon into her cereal bowl she wondered if it was too much to hope that there had been an administrative error in choosing the head boy. Maybe they were receiving some kind of special privileges for being that much older and more mature. She felt years older after the war. It was strange to be here in this place locked in time. Eventually the younger students cleared out to their first lessons leaving only their two year groups. McGonagall stood up somewhat uncomfortably and addressed them. "The Ministry have a message for you all, which I have unfortunately been tasked to deliver. I apologise in advance." Everyone looked around confusedly, even the ever callous Slytherins seemed nervous.

From their headmistress' wand a patronus in the shape of a lynx formed and greeted them, relaxing Hermione minutely as she recognised the familiar voice. "I'm Kingsley Shacklebolt, the new minister for magic." The creature looked down on them from the dais. "As you are all aware, the Second Wizarding War has once again depleted our ranks and here at the Ministry we have been in talks all summer on how to solve this issue. Your generation is already thin enough as it is and the population was only beginning to rise again when You-Know-Who returned." The Death Eaters' children all looked quite uncomfortable. They'd been pardoned officially- they were children after all, but hearts and minds were harder to win over than the law. "We have come to a difficult decision called, colloquially, the Marriage Law." A chill settled over the room, though confusion was still clouding their brains. "Every two years until the population has reached our quota, Hogwarts sixth and seventh years will take a year to determine their most suited mate, who they will then marry and produce a child with within two years or else sanctions will be imposed." As everything became clearer a few gasps reverberated throughout the Hall but Kingsley's patronus ploughed on. "Any current couples can petition to remain together and will be approved, but please consider carefully before you do this. If you produce a child, divorce will be possible after five years but not encouraged. We heartily apologise for this inconvenience and hope you make the best of this situation. We will be diligent in making sure you are placed with a soulmate." And then the lynx pouffed out of existence leaving them in chaos and McGonagall with pursed lips. Hermione had heard the reluctance in Kingsley's voice, but clearly he'd been outvoted on this. She could understand why he hadn't come here in person. Everyone was reacting differently, but there was quite a lot of anger. If he'd been here he certainly would have had some curses thrown at him, or maybe some fists. The grey haired witch who seemed to have aged since she last spoke cleared her throat and told them that the Ministry wanted to get on with this as quickly as possible so the test would be completed this afternoon and sent off afterwards. They had the whole day off lessons so that couples could discuss whether or not to stay together and to allow everyone to generally take the disturbing development in. As they shakily began to leave, Ginny came over and took the Boy Who Lived's arm. "Harry, could we talk? In private?"

Harry's lightning bolt streaked forehead creased visibly, even beneath his fringe. "About what?" We're staying together, right? I know this moves everything up, but we always wanted to be together in this way in the end." Hermione felt sick as she watched Ginny's face turn paler. She should look away. She should pull Ron away. Cast a privacy charm on Harry and Ginny. Everyone was looking at them like a car crash it was impossible to run away from.

"Kingsley said to be sure, Harry."

"I am sure," her friend protested, ever the romantic. He wanted something just like his parents had, except with a happy ending. He was sure he would get it as the epilogue of his great adventure story. He deserved it.

His girlfriend bit her lip, fidgeting with her hair and looking like a little girl who wanted to go hide under her mother's skirts. "If it's meant to be we'll be paired together."

Harry's eyes narrowed. "A test can't determine love."

"I want to be happy!" Ginny exclaimed, and anyone who hadn't been looking before was now. She lowered her voice a little, but it was too late for that. "I want to be sure."

Harry scoffed. "Good luck with that, Gin." He stormed off, Ron sending a horrified pointed look to his sister before he followed. Hermione squeezed Ginny's shoulder, but knew she had to follow as well. Before she went, she threw _"langlock"_ at Malfoy and his cruel, laughing Slytherin cohort to stick their tongues to the roofs of their mouths, for once not caring if the teachers docked house points from her because of it.


	2. Chapter II

_**Chapter II:**_

They spent the morning slumped on Harry and Ron's beds in the Gryffindor boy's' dorm room in companionable silence. She'd expected Harry to be angrier, but he just seemed to have no energy. None of them did. He didn't even seem hungry, but she forced him to eat a sandwich, always convinced that good test results could never be achieved on an empty stomach. She didn't have to convince Ron, even their impending loss of freedom couldn't scare away his ever-growling appetite.

The test was a strange combination of a genuine examination at those tables that will fill anyone with dread as teachers patrolled to prevent cheating, with questions on magical knowledge clearly designed to determine intelligence, and the type of quiz in Witch Weekly Ginny always tried to force her to do when they were at the Burrow. It went from impossibly difficult magical questions to _out of the following which would be a deal breaker: selfishness like a mermaid, having the IQ of a troll or snoring like a dragon!_ With questions like that Hermione finished with plenty of time to spare, so once she'd written down the answer to the last question; how long the test took her, she chewed on her pencil unconsciously. Bored, she waited and watched the others. Someone else was bored too. Across the hall, as they were arranged in alphabetical order, Malfoy seemed to finish just after her. He was always second place to her. His daddy would be so disappointed, she thought with amusement. He seemed to have a different way of passing the time. Harry was right in front of him and Malfoy seemed to think it was hilarious to blow air from his mouth on the back of the Boy Who Lived's neck, causing him to itch it intermittently and Flitwick came over to see if he was sending someone secret signals. All Hermione could do was roll her eyes. This was still a test after all, and she wasn't going to get her paper ripped up.

* * *

After the test the three friends compared their answers out by the Black Lake, as they usually did. And as usual, the boys were anxious about Hermione's answers being much better than theirs. "We answered nothing alike," said Ron disappointedly, then blushed at the implication of what he'd accidentally revealed. Hermione did too because whilst she loved Ron as a friend and being paired with a friend wouldn't be the worst thing in the world, she did want love, even if everyone saw her as a stoic bookworm incapable of the feeling. Thankfully Harry missed the whole awkward exchange because Ginny had just appeared with Luna, Neville and Dean. He clenched his fists as he saw her laugh at something Dean said and Hermione's heart jolted for him. She rested her head on his shoulder sadly and told him everything would work out. Kingsley must have their best interests at heart.

* * *

Every day the Ministry deliberated on pairings things became more tense back at Hogwarts. Students snapped at teachers, broke down crying or told their friends they loved them all without any punishment; the adults were clearly pitying them. Malfoy had a stream of girls in and out of his room at all hours, clearly trying to sample every flavour Hogwarts had to offer before he was forced to have stick with just one thereafter. Finally, a month later, a swarm of grey owls swooped into the Great Hall at the unusual time of dinner rather than breakfast, the younger students marvelling as the older ones held their breath.

The tearing of paper was accompanied by shrieks of joy and horror, sometimes difficult to tell apart, but some students clutched their letters without opening them. The Golden Trio were three such students. "You go first," Ron encouraged Harry, who was busy watching Ginny, who had opened her letter and was not watching him.

Hermione grabbed both their hands, and their attention. "Let's do it together." They agreed, and counted up to do it on three. Harry grimaced, Ron looked up and down the hall repeating _"who the heck is Sally-Anne Perks"_ whilst Hermione burst out laughing. It wasn't an amused laugh. It was a _'This is not real and what else can I do'_ laugh. It was the same feeling she'd gotten when she'd learnt Malfoy would be her co-head, except a hundred times worse, because now Malfoy wouldn't just be in her life for this year. He would be her husband.

"You self-absorbed twit, Ronald Weasley!" Exclaimed a blotchy faced girl further down the table from them, causing Ron to turn in confusion, pointing a finger at his chest questioningly. "We've been in the same house longer than you're supposed to attend Hogwarts and you still don't know my name?" Ron gave his wife-to-be a placating smile then winced to the two of them and asked who they had.

"Daphne Greenglass," a surprised Harry revealed, his ginger friend practically falling out of his seat in horror as he heard the Slytherin's name. They glanced across the hall and received a little three fingered wave from the blonde wedged between Parkinson and Nott.

"What about you 'mione?" A still gobsmacked Ron asked. She shook her head.

Harry raised an eyebrow. "It can't be any worse than mine."

Hermione snorted. "Oh it certainly can."

Her two friends exchanged a look and then turned back to the Slytherin table. "No," "it can't be," they said at the same time.

* * *

"Professor, this must be a mistake," Malfoy and Hermione said in synch, and then glared at each other at the insolence that one would dare to steal the other's words. The headmistress sighed and collapsed into her desk chair, summoning some tea and offering it to the two students who'd followed her up there. They both shook their heads no, but reluctantly took the chairs opposite her desk, too close to each other for their comfort.

"Mr Malfoy, Miss Granger," McGonagall peered at them over her spectacles. "I do not imagine that the Ministry will allow anyone, even the two Head students, out of this law."

"But we have nothing in common!" Exclaimed Malfoy, which infuriated her to no end because she'd wanted to say that.

McGonagall raised an eyebrow. "You don't think so?" They both looked at her as if she'd started spitting pixies. "You're both top of the class, and you both have the qualities to be Head students." Hermione had never considered that. She supposed perhaps they did share some qualities, but that was the exact problem with a test to determine romance, it didn't take account of other factors like, _say..._ _history or hatred or disgust_. "I appointed you both not because I thought it would be easy for you but because I thought you could work together to do the school some good. In fact, don't you think it would be persuasive for everyone if you two were the first to get married." She phrased it like a question but her voice was decisive. On that dismissive note they both stood up. Before leaving Hermione caught the eye of Dumbledore's portrait, which winked at her, and then Snape's, which seemed to be smirking- she'd never seen his face in anything but a perpetual frown. When he saw her looking the expression immediately flipped upside down.

Once she'd left McGonagall's office Hermione began to storm off but her dramatic exit was ruined when Malfoy grabbed her arm and yanked her beside him. "Get off me!"

"Stop shrieking like a banshee," he said drolly. "I don't want my hands on your filthy mudblood body any more than you do, but we need to talk."

She scowled at him. "We're not going to link arms and stroll around the grounds together just because we're being temporarily forced to mate."

"Certainly not," he sounded outraged by the notion. "But I have conditions."

"Conditions!" She spluttered. "I didn't propose to you!"

"One," Malfoy continued over her as though she'd never spoken. "You will not interact romantically with anyone but me. That means no secret snogging with Weasel or nasty necking with Pothead."

"Obviously! I'm not a slut," she said. "But the same goes for you."

"Fine," he agreed. He couldn't have anyone else to sleep with by now anyway. "Two, you will not give any statements to the press without my express approval."

"You're not Tom Cruise, Malfoy," she rolled her eyes.

"Keep the muggle references to a minimum as well," he shuddered. "I realise you come from an average family Granger but mine are celebrities and anyone with the Malfoy name will act in a way befitting it."

"What if I don't want the Malfoy name?" He just genuinely looked confounded now, as if he couldn't possibly comprehend that anyone would prefer a muggle name to his own high-class one.

"You're changing your name," he continued right on, and she took a hefty breath but ironically uttered "equality" as they reached their common room. McGonagall was really pushing for this unity thing. Apparently the password to Gryffindor was 'respect'. "Four, your progenitors will not be visiting us at Malfoy Manor. My family and I may just about be able to tolerate your presence but any more muggles will stink up the whole house." God, life with Malfoy and his prejudiced parents locked up in that ancient place with no friends or family of her own unless a little half-demon baby showed up. It was a frightening prospect.

"I wouldn't want my parents subjected to your family's heinousness anyway," she sat down in one of the armchairs and he stretched out across the sofa like a lazy cat in the sun. "But I will be visiting them, especially if we have a child. They'll want to see their grandchild."

Draco nodded his consent. He clearly had a lot more things to say, but he just added one more for the time being, seemingly surprised she hadn't objected to staying at his family home and perhaps not wanting to push it. "When we're not... procreating," they both shivered at the word. "You'll have your own chambers at the manor."

"Just like Queen Elizabeth and Prince Philip," she laughed. He just rolled his eyes at her constant muggle referencing and left without so much as a goodbye.

 ** _Review!_**


	3. Chapter III

_**Chapter III:**_

 _ **AN: Dubious consent ahead!**_

Draco and Hermione's wedding was scheduled for the next weekend. It was held out by the Lake because of the unseasonably good weather, and attended by much of the student population. The eternal joining of the two students who hated each other most in the school was like a reality show come to the medieval castle. Everyone wanted a front row seat and a tub of popcorn. McGonagall performed the ceremony while Malfoy and Hermione stood sternly, she looking uncomfortably at his official witnesses: Nott, Zabini and Goyle; whilst Harry and Ron glared at him venomously from behind her. They spoke the unpersonalised template vows and placed their wands over each other's as McGonagall bound them with a symbolic gold ribbon and then she pronounced that the wizard could kiss his witch. _'Could'_ being the operative verb; one that indicates possibility. But everyone was looking at them expectantly. They both dove toward each other at the same time and somehow managed not to headbutt each other's faces off as their lips crashed together briefly and then they both pulled back again whilst the younger, more idealistic students laughed delightedly and threw seasonal flowers at them. When they'd kissed her mind had been blank, a mental block placed on it by herself to avoid having to experience the moment she'd been dreading. Afterwards though, she found herself thinking that it hadn't been absolutely terrible. His lips hadn't been like the giant squid in the murky waters below, her heart hadn't clenched with guilt that Ron was watching, she hadn't felt sick at him touching her. The thought itself made her feel sick. She hadn't hating kissing Malfoy.

* * *

The Room of Requirement hadn't been used since Crabbe had set off fiendfyre in the Room of Hidden Things and killed himself last year, but it had been decided that it would be used for the wedding nights. Naturally, Hermione was incredibly anxious as they walked up in silence after the official ceremony. She was confused as to why Malfoy wasn't belittling her as usual, but then she realised he was upset about his friend. She thought about reaching out to comfort him but he pulled open the door before she could decide. She followed him inside and saw a huge, offensively romantic king bed with a wooden board depicting a green and silver snake uniting with a red and gold lion. Malfoy snorted. "Subtle." She laughed as well, before she knew she was even doing it. He looked over at her surprised and she turned away to shut the door and hide her face. When she turned back around he was close behind her, making her jump. He put his hands on hers to still her, or so she thought. Then she felt cool glass against her skin and realised he was passing her a drink of wine. "Liquid courage?" She took the glass, thankful and frankly astounded by his comradeship. They clinked their glasses together and drunk, Malfoy staring over his drink at her as if waiting for something. Then she began to feel a strange tingling in her head. It was sort of like being tipsy, except she wasn't that much of a lightweight. She hadn't even finished the glass. Everything was kind of rose-tinted. The room, which had been a bit over the top, now seemed adorably perfect. The candles burning in the darkness smelt heavenly. Malfoy's blond crop of hair was like a halo over his head. His grey eyes reminded her of the stormy clouds she'd always loved to watch from inside, cuddled up in a warm blanket, but hated being drawn into. His robes, which he was now pulling off, made him look like Mr Darcy. She wanted to kiss along his cheekbones. She wanted to inhale his peppermint smell. She wanted to see if his hair was as soft as it looked. She wanted to entwine their tongues in a kiss she could actually pay attention to and focus on his taste. She wanted to slowly explore down his naked body and admire every masterful aspect of it. So she did.

Growling pleasurably, he lifted her up and she squealed in delight, wrapping her legs around his waist as he walked them slowly backwards, collapsing onto the bed with her on top of him. She kissed his face passionately but he was displeased with their unequal states of undress. He ripped off her dress robes, tearing them irreparably, not that she minded. As soon as it had landed on the floor it was forgotten. He admired the lacy underwear Ginny had forced her into, saying that even if she hated her husband this was still a night when she should feel confident in her sexuality. Then it was gone as well. He flipped her over expertly but she wasn't worried about her lack of experience. She knew he'd look after her. He was incredible. He loved her. He pushed into her and she clenched her fists and screwed up her face as he broke her hymen and a little blood spilled out onto the sheets, but he shushed her and stroked her hair comfortingly to calm her down. The pain didn't last too long and once she was through it, it was overpowered by a wave of pleasure that made her exhale "Draco!"

It was magical and beautiful, and afterwards they both collapsed on the mattress and curled up in each other to sleep.

* * *

When Hermione woke up she was momentarily disoriented. Then she felt the warm, bare body spooning her. She shrieked in dismay, waking up said body, and practically fell off the bed. "Look away!" She screamed as she yanked the duvet off the bed to wrap it around herself, covering her own eyes when she saw parts of him she'd never admit made her flustered.

"Too late for that..." Malfoy leered, not making any moves away from his position on the bed. Nor did he show any shame in his utter nudity. Bloody prat knew that he looked like a painting of some perfectly shaped Greek god. "Bad dreams, wife?"

Actually they'd been rather vulgar and sinfully enjoyable. Hold on. She didn't remember any awkward, fumbling first time. That perfect dream had been _real_. Her mind reeled backwards, fixing on the moment when things had changed. "Did you roofie me?"

"I've no clue what the ceiling has to do with this."

"Oh for Godric's sake Malfoy!" She cried out. "Did you drug the wine?"

He frowned at her. "Didn't you enjoy it?"

Her forehead furrowed. "That's not the point, you can't take the choice away from me! I don't want a baby born out of that!"

"But it was much better than it would have been otherwise," he justified himself. "Half of our Pureblood classmates were born through love potion."

"So was Voldemort!" Her infuriated stomp sent waves through the floor but he didn't seem to care.

"The Dark Lord wasn't evil because his parents didn't love each other," he snorted. "Plenty of parents don't love each other and have fully functional children." Interesting as it was to hear him describe his master as dysfunctional, she was still raging.

"Swear that you'll never do it again."

His slate eyes were colder than ever before as he stood up in the nude, walking over to her to whisper, "certainly. Next time I'll make sure you suffer through every torturous, agonising minute of it." He leant in to her ear to whisper softly, "and I will ensure it is exquisitely so."


	4. Chapter IV

_**Chapter IV:**_

 _ **AN: I wanted to try something else with this story and I'm quite proud of it but Draco isn't the main villain, it is Dramione even though he does some awful things. It's explained later in the story but if anyone doesn't want a story like this that's fine. Otherwise, read and review!**_

Everyone wanted to know how Saturday night had been: Ginny in a gossiping excitable way; Harry and Ron ready to pummel Malfoy if he'd hurt her; random students who wanted to know when they could be expecting a grey eyed bushy haired bouncing baby. She didn't want to talk to any of them so after she failed to swallow anything at breakfast on Monday she sent a message that she was sick and burrowed under her covers, unwilling to face her friends or her classmates or, most of all, him. Everyone was sure to be worried because she'd never taken a sick day from school, but she didn't mind at all. She just lay there in bed all day, allowing herself to feel sorry for herself, until her door creaked open. A heavenly demon was stood at the door of her bed with a tray. "Get out," she hissed at him.

Malfoy placed the tray on her lap and jerked his head at it. "McGonagall told me to bring it up so you didn't starve. Now that's done I'll be straight off." Except he didn't head straight off. He hesitated in the doorway. "Why are you so desperate to experience everything fully in control Granger?" He asked. "Have you heard such good things about my abilities, or are you truly that much of a control freak?"

He was impossible. He didn't understand genuine human interaction. It was pointless trying to explain, but she would anyway. "Love is beautiful Malfoy," she tried. He just chuckled.

"Says someone who has clearly never done anything more than hold hands and bat her eyelashes." He shook his head. "It's messy and ugly, especially when you're forced into it. It's easier to just lose yourself. Let yourself enjoy it."

"But it's not real," she countered. Apparently giving up, he made a strange displeased noise and left the room. She found that she could swallow a little steak and ale pie, and it warmed her up inside. A little more comfortable in more ways than one, she stopped staring into space and shut her eyes to sleep.

* * *

As the Boy Who Lived and his sidekick, Harry and Ron's weddings were also well attended. They were the next after Hermione's, as if to convince everyone else that if celebrities would submit to this stupid law then everyone else should as well. The sun had decided it was done for the year and gone into hibernation to be replaced by autumnal drizzle, so both weddings were held in the Great Hall. Others would be in McGonagall's office but the Hall was large enough to accommodate all the guests who wanted to attend these well populated three. And Daphne Greenglass at least, wanted a fabulous day. She arrived with her hair in an intricately curled hairdo tumbling all around her face in the way that looks effortless but had obviously taken maximum effort. She wasn't wearing dress robes but instead a new pure white lacy, plunging dress with pearls decorating the neckline. Hermione wasn't sure who she was trying to fool; she'd certainly seen her leaving Draco's room in his parade of women. The subject of his fiancée's friend's' mockery, Harry looked skeletal pale as the incandescent beauty approached him and even more so when she kissed him passionately on the lips to whooping applause, presumably to evoke a reaction. Surprisingly, that at last seemed to pull him out of his Ginny slump and he seemed stunned but somewhat excited as they headed off to the Room of Requirement. She saw Ginny standing by Zabini with his arm around her, looking reflective. It was certainly strange how Ron was the only one out of the four of them who hadn't been paired with a Slytherin, almost as if McGonagall was the one truly controlling the selections with her obsession with interhouse unity. Compared to his best friend, Ron was beetroot red on his own special day. It could have been the collar that was choking him, or Sally-Anne Perks' vice grip. They hadn't spoken since that awkward introduction despite a couple of botched attempts on his send. She was still giving him the cold shoulder as they headed up for their first night together, his dorm mates giving him a thumbs up and chuckling. Malfoy and Hermione had devised a timetable and it was high time for their second rendezvous as well. She had no idea what to expect. Would he be abrasive, silent, high off of love potion? She'd changed into a nightie to walk across the common room to his bedroom. They were lucky in that way she supposed. Most people had a timetable for their slot in the Room of Requirement. A few more adventurous couples experimented more freely. Ginny had told her that she and 'Blaise', for example, had met up in the prefects bathroom. It sounded like they were doing pretty well together. Ginny still hated his Slytherin guts, but apparently the hate sex was what made it so epically amazing.

Although she supposed there was nothing new to see, Hermione still knocked cautiously on the door before popping her head around the side. It was dark within, strangely. She couldn't see much, but Malfoy's room seemed like there were little places for him to be hiding. Everything was organised and placed in its correct position, so unless he was hidden in the wardrobe it didn't seem like he was in there. She stepped inside to get a closer look but no sooner had she done so than the door shut. It was pitch black without the light from outside and her breath hitched, despite knowing that she was only a foot away from escape. Reasoning that very fact to her mind, she stepped backwards, into a body. "Evening Hermione," greeted Malfoy in a low tone. It was the first time he'd ever called her by her name, the word flittering across his lips in a scandalous, dangerous way. It was a word that sounded completely wrong in his mouth.

"What are you doing?" Her words were aggressive but her tone was scared, no matter her vain attempts to sound strong. She was an awful Gryffindor. She'd been asking about the name, any other thoughts gone from her head momentarily, but of course he explained the more blatant issue that he'd trapped her in the darkness.

"I thought since we're not allowed to stimulate ourselves through enhancing our attraction we should instead turn off the lights so we can minimise our revulsion. She wished he could see the look on her face. "And that's your name, isn't it? I can't exactly call you Granger anymore, can I? And it feels like I'm speaking to myself like Longbottom's clinically insane parents if if I call you Malfoy. Come on," he grabbed her hand and she jumped. "Let's get on with it."

"Husband, you take my breath away," she rolled her eyes, a little more comfortable now Malfoy was being his usual hateful self again. She pulled down her nightie and it dropped to the floor whilst he guided them to the bed and positioned himself over her much faster than he had before. No foreplay today.

"Wife, you feel better than you look." She swatted at him furiously. It should have been better. It was so much worse. She hated the darkness, the lack of intimacy. She hated that when they were done they didn't cuddle up in bed happily, instead she grabbed her clothes and headed across the hall. She hated that she hated it. Surely it should have been the perfect arrangement. She should have imagined it was Ron or Viktor or Brad Pitt. But she hadn't wanted to. She felt like she knew his body, and even with her eyes closed she could picture it. His ruffled hair, his slim but perfectly shaped body from all that Quidditch desperate to beat Gryffindor in his final year, his lower, well-endowed area. This was messed up. She had to talk to someone before her brain overloaded trying to handle its incredulity.


	5. Chapter V

**_Chapter V:_**

The next couple of days at Malfoy Manor seemed like a punishment for her behaviour. She didn't see anyone except at meals, which was more than enough for her, and thankfully they basically ignored her existence there, instead having brief polite conversations with each other. If she was at home right now they would be hanging up their stockings at the ends of their beds, reading through their classic Christmas books ritualistically and then laying out a mince pie and glass of port for Father Christmas, even after they knew she knew it was them. Christmas Eve had always been the Grangers' favourite part of the holidays, the heart of it. She wondered if the Malfoys did anything for it whatsoever. "We'll be having our annual Christmas Eve ball tomorrow," announced Lucius. Was he a legilimens? If so, she was going to have be careful not just verbally but also with her thoughts, making this a prison in more ways than one. "I don't expect you have anything suitable," his wife didn't even wait for her to protest. "So I will kindly lend you one of my evening dresses." Fifty galleons that it was green and/or silver.

* * *

Surprisingly enough, it wasn't. Whilst Narcissa herself was adorned like a Christmas tree, Hermione's colour scheme was more like Father Christmas. It was a rich burgundy in mermaid style with gold lacing on the bodice like the ribbon on a perfectly wrapped present. She felt a little like one in the cinched waistline. Wrapped up tight. Not so subtly, the older witch had left a bottle of Sleekeazy on her dressing table and, not in the mood for arguments on this festive day, Hermione slathered it onto her hair until it was as straight as an arrow. All made up, she felt like throwing herself a pity party rather than traipsing out to be inspected and admonished by swathes of blood supremacists. Maybe they would just treat her like a speck of dust as the Malfoys had been doing? A girl could only hope. Taking a deep breath to steel herself, she opened the door to find Malfoy with his perpetual revolted expression, a fist raised as if he were about to knock. He looked her over, his eyes shifting from foggy grey to a shade more like burning ashes. He seemed suddenly flustered in the gold trimmed suit that matched the detail on her dress, but when he spoke his voice was level enough. "You don't clean up half bad Hermione," he hadn't called her by her name for a while, instead just ordering her around without properly addressing her. "My mother has truly exquisite taste. That dress really highlights your curves rather than making you seem your usual frumpy self." Only he could turn a half-arsed compliment into an appraisal of his mummy and a brutal rebuttal of her style. He gestured to his own head. "The hair thing was a good choice as well. Allows one to actually focus on something other than the bush that could hide a raccoon." Well that was just hyperbole. Her hair had actually calmed down once she'd passed puberty. Meeting her chestnut eyes his mouth opened and then shut before he offered her his arm.

They descended to the ballroom floor, which was dancing with a swirl of colours. She wanted to submerge herself into the crowd, and hopefully go find some food at the extensive buffet with the crystal plates, but he stopped her midway down the stairs, just above where his parents were stood. They both turned and nodded approvingly at the couple before calling for the crowd's attention with an elegant clink of their champagne flutes."Good evening friends," greeted Lucius. "Season's greetings. My family and I," he reluctantly gestured at Hermione. "Which you will see now has an extra member-"

"And hopefully another by this time next year," said Narcissa, all beams, to chortles which could have been either mocking or delighted. Hermione didn't pay much heed to the rest of the welcoming speech. She was distracted by the glimmering ceiling feature. "I see you repaired the chandelier," she observed dryly to Malfoy under her breath.

Clapping in a convincing image of the attentive son, he muttered, "no matter how dramatic the damage, it can always be fixed with a quick repairo by any _real wizard."_

She scowled, a faint blush on her cheeks. "You know I'm more than capable. Didn't I best you every year of competition?"

"Have a fabulous night!" The Malfoys concluded at last, and she smiled agreeably down at the crowd, surprised when her eye caught not just familiar faces, but also beloved ones. She very nearly screamed out their names, but she couldn't stop herself from racing towards them, despite the failed tug on her arm, she managed to move her arm just in time. Honestly, she didn't care a jot if there was a predecided circulation to meeting guests, she'd been alone here for what felt like weeks and she needed the comfort of friends who were like family.

"Wow 'Mione!" Harry exulted her as she catapulted into his arms. "You look gorgeous."

His wife nodded half-heartedly. "Quite tolerable to the eye."

"Not bad Granger!" Laughed Zabini. She hadn't heard him speak that often but it was quite pleasant really. Melodic and jocular. The worst news in the world would probably sound fun coming from his lips. Ginny certainly thought so, looking away from him only to give Hermione a friendly smile and then giggling hysterically at a joke of his again.

"That's _Malfoy_ to you, mate," her husband had caught up to her and was wiggling his eyebrows at Ginny's beau in the sort of best friend signal she used with her own. Maybe Zabini's brightness was contagious because Malfoy's practised smile had dissolved into a genuine grin, his face crinkling at the edges, his eyes actually lighting up. She probably shouldn't be wasting this limited time with her friends, but seeing him like this was captivating. Eventually she forced herself to look away. Daphne had wandered off to go find more interesting company so Harry gladly filled her in on everything going on at the Burrow. Molly had grandma fever times four and had been knitting up a storm of baby sweaters and scarves- as well as Daphne, Ginny and Sally-Anne, Bill and Fleur were also expecting a child, around the anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts. They'd all been worried about George, who'd lost his sense of humour without his twin, but somehow their predicament had invigorated him and he'd started creating new inventions for the joke shop, as well as routinely mocking them on how they should have dropped out like he did. Percy had of course been out of school for some years now but he was as dedicated to the Ministry as ever and determined to help them in whatever way possible so he'd found a woman named Audrey and proposed to her. Hermione wasn't complaining, maybe they could just pop out all the babies necessary to take the Wizarding population back up to normal without her ever needing to conceive a Malfoy. Charlie, on the other hand, had written to tell them he found it all quite awful and that if they ever needed to get away his dragon sanctuary would always welcome them. Apparently they would be having a huge feast tomorrow with all their spouses and in-laws at Bill and Fleur's home. It had been decided as neutral territory after a brief argument between the otherwise chummy Mrs Greenglass, Weasley and Zabini about who should be the hostess. Mrs Perks, on the other hand, seemed quite willing to let it be held anywhere else, as if her daughter was owed something for being ignored by her classmates all these years. It sounded like Hermione and the Malfoys' rival for most awkward Christmas dinner, which made her selfishly and secretly thrilled.

"Care to dance?" Harry asked her when they'd caught each other up. She wasn't quite sure how these things work, and she didn't want to enrage him, so she glanced to the Slytherin duo, but Malfoy had disappeared, leaving Ginny and Zabini to eat each others' faces off. Shrugging internally, she gave her friend a little curtsy and he led her onto the ballroom floor, placing one hand in hers and the other on her back. As they waltzed she nodded at him, impressed. "You've improved a lot since the Yule Ball."

He blushed, breaking her gaze. "Daphne's been teaching me."

"Mm?" He made a _"pft"_ noise and they both chuckled but Hermione broke off abruptly when she saw her husband through the doorway in the sitting room. His father seemed to be yelling at him, perhaps with a silencing charm around them as she couldn't hear anything, but Malfoy wasn't paying him much heed. As soon as he saw her with Harry his expression hardened and his hands fisted. He said something that looked like "alright" and stormed away to an elf, grabbing a flute from their tray and downing the liquid within. Her heart clenched nervously and she stepped away from Harry, but she was pretty sure the damage was already done.

 ** _Guest: No, it's Daphne :)_**

 ** _AN: Taking a brief break from the drama for a little flashforward next chapter._**


	6. Flashforward I

_**Flashforward I:**_

Every September for practically every year of his life that he could remember, Scorpius Malfoy sat on his sister's trolley and waved her off forlornly as she left for adventures to Hogwarts. Finally it was his turn to start his own story. There was just one thing nagging at him. "Mum," he whispered as his father carried his sister's trunk towards the train and she chartered to him about how the Quidditch team was shaping up for another win this year. "How is it decided which house you're in?" It was a well-guarded secret; not in any textbook and never muttered by any alumni. His mother tapped a finger to her nose, but then she seemed to notice something was wrong, a crease forming on her forehead.

"Why do you ask Scor? Nervous?"

He nodded, his cheeks flushing ashamedly. Sera had gone off to school with an excited beam on her face, confidently not turning back once she'd boarded the train. In some ways, he wanted to just stay home at the manor in the safety of his mother's skirts, where he couldn't be a disappointment to anyone. He didn't want to offend her, but he had to ask. "Sera said I'd never make a Slytherin. Wh-what if I'm in Gryffindor?" He immediately felt guilty, and ridiculous. "I know you loved it, and there's no way I would be- no-one's ever used the word 'brave' to describe me..."

Instead of being hurt, she hugged him tightly. "Oh honey..." She exhaled. "You are a kind, clever, brave, resourceful soul. Whatever house you're in will be lucky to have you."

"But if I am in Gryffindor?" He pressed.

She glanced over at the man sharing the same platinum blond locks as both his children. "I'll send you my old scarf." He scoffed, but it did make him feel a little better, and with a rumple of his hair she sent him off.

His father waved him over and then lifted up his trunk onto the Express. "Listen Scor," he touched his own hair nervously, an emotion Scorpius was sure he'd never seen decorating that face before. "I-uh," a man in uniform called for everyone to get aboard, so his father lent down quickly and hugged him. Scorpius didn't respond, shocked to stillness. "These are the best years of your life. Make them good, alright?" He nodded, and his father gave him a small smile before he climbed up.

"See you soon Dad!" He called out impulsively as the doors closed, stumbling sideways as the train began to slowly chug away, but it was his father rather than the speed that made him jolt. And his own reaction too. He'd never called him 'dad'. He pressed his face up against the door window, straining until they turned a bend and he had to give up. He felt refreshed though, reinvigorated. Pulling his trunk along, as well as the cage containing the owl he'd recently purchased on a trip to Diagon Alley, he'd been so excited to have one of his own, just like his big sister had gotten six years ago. After a little trek involving some awkward peering into windows he was finally greeted by some peering back at him, grins cracking across their faces as they called out "Scorp!" He smiled back easily as well, sliding back the door as he relaxed into the place saved for him by his best friend Albus, across from the Weasley cousins Roxanne, Louis and Sienna, who was technically a Zabini but they all still referred to her and her siblings as members of the Weasley clan. Albus had looked momentarily anxious before he'd arrived, but now he was all easy smiles and jokes, as if Scorpius' presence had completed him. The two of them had always been like that, _cringe-worthy as some people might call it_ , soulmates. Albus may have had a Slytherin mother, but unlike in the Malfoy family, here the Gryffindor gene was clearly dominant. Both his older siblings James and Lily had been sorted into the house of lions. That would be a sure benefit of being in Gryffindor. They could have all sorts of wild hijinks together just like their parents had done- but it would never happen. More likely he would be in Hufflepuff all alone and shame _both_ his parents. "What about you Scorp?"

He turned to Roxanne wide-eyed, utterly lost. "What?"

She turned to smile knowingly at Sienna so that her cornrows hit her face with such whiplash. "What house are you hoping for?" She repeated.

Before he could answer that surely he needed to know who he was. How could he be sorted without knowing that himself? Looking to Albus for guidance, his friend looked back in a similar way, as if he wished he could help him, but he was asking the same questions about himself. "I don't- I'm not sure."

* * *

Hogwarts was as grand and beautiful as he'd always imagined, even more so in fact. From the bewitched ceiling to the interested ghosts, there were things to marvel at even for a boy who'd grown up in a magical household. The First Years assembled at the front of the hall for the others to ogle at, Albus giving Professor Longbottom a nervous wave and his godfather waved back at them. The headmistress welcomed them all but Scorpius was so busy worrying about how he'd be sorted he didn't pay the speech any heed- until she was presented with a tattered old hat. He and Albus exchanged an unimpressed look without speaking, but they both leapt back when the hat launched into a song about attributes and values that left him even more confused than before. Names were called out in alphabetical order with a swirl of cheering and then it was his turn. Tentatively, he sat down on the stool and the hat was placed on his head. "You're a confused one aren't you." _Amen_ , he nearly told the hat. "You thought you knew where you wanted to be. You thought you knew where you should be. No longer." This was not proving helpful so far. "But I can see capability for greatness in many places. Hmm..." the hat considered silently for a minute as Albus looked out at the tables. There were the Slytherins on one end: his sister at the other, along with most of the Weasley clan, save Dominique at Ravenclaw.

McGonagall whispered something to Professor Longbottom. Louis bit his lip. Roxanne and Sienna frowned. Albus gave him a thumbs up. "Gryffindor!" He felt like he'd been thrown backwards. He hadn't been seriously considering wearing red and gold ever since he'd off-handedly dismissed it. It was so... not him. The hall was silent for a moment and he remained seated uncertainly, thinking that maybe the hat would apologise for mispronouncing Hufflepuff, but it said nothing more to him. McGonagall took the hat off his head, probably gesturing to the Gryffindor because a patter of claps developed into full blown cheering. Stumbling again in a world that felt topsy-turvy, Scorpius somehow found his way to the table and was consequently yanked down by the sixth year James Potter, who slapped him on the back in a congratulatory manner for being sorted into "the only house that really matters". The worries about his father were back in full force. He'd just started calling him 'Dad'. Now he was going to get disowned. But it would be fine. He would have Al.

"Slytherin!" What? He felt light headed. This was just a nightmare.

Weasley, Louis was sorted into Hufflepuff.

What was the muggle lullaby his mum used to sing him to sleep with? _Rock a bye baby on the tree top. When the wind blows the cradle will rock. If the bough breaks the cradle will fall._ That's where it stopped for him. Incomplete. No-one was going to catch him. There was Roxanne and Sienna, but they would be together-they were already sat at a different table, chattering excitedly, only occasionally sending him friendly but distant glances as if they'd forgotten he was there. He looked across the tables separating them to his best friend, knowing that things couldn't possibly ever be the same.

 _ **AN: Hope you enjoyed that little (slightly lighter but nonetheless angsty) peek into the future. We'll be finding out what happened with Draco and Lucius next time and there's going to be some consequences unfortuntely.**_


	7. Chapter VI

**_Chapter VI:_**

 ** _AN: This chapter contains some potentially distressing content._**

Draco had been enduring lectures from his parents for days whenever Hermione left the room. For some reason they were desperate for a half blood brat. He supposed they wanted him to be able to get the divorce quickly, but then again they genuinely seemed to care that this baby would be born, as if they weren't planning to scrub it off the family tree and forget their shared blood as soon as possible. At the ball he momentarily allowed himself to act like a teenager and enjoy himself, inspired by her carefree attitude. Then he saw his father. A tall silhouette at the entrance to his room. He could hear tinkling laughter all around, but he knew he was being drawn in one direction. They met without greeting each other, the closest thing to 'good evening' a brief wave of his father's wand to ensure privacy, not that anyone was listening or cared. Lucius Malfoy had always been able to get away with anything. He slapped Draco cleanly across the face, sending his son's face reflexively to the side but he kept his mouth straight and his eyes on the ground despite the tears prickling at them. Weak.

"She's not pregnant," his voice was flat but the pause indicated a question so Draco nodded shortly. "And you haven't been trying to change that since you arrived back home." Another nod, this one more reluctantly. "Do you not understand how important this is Draco?" He didn't say anything, but his father could clearly tell he didn't because he huffed disappointedly and looked up to the sky as if praying for the capable son he'd dreamed of. "It's no wonder you were always second best to the mudblood. The Ministry refuses to employ me because they no longer trust me." He spoke slowly now, as if trying to convey this to a toddler. "We still have the support of much of Pureblood society but as you may have noticed by a brief survey of the room, that has even dwindled to disappointing levels since the war killed or scared many of them off. In order to gain my influence back I need to regain my position and to do that I need to be seen as a proud proponent of integration and equality," he spat out the words, but he was a cockroach. He would do whatever it took to survive. Now that he'd laid it out Draco felt foolish for not realising what was going on sooner. "You _will_ get that girl pregnant, and quickly, whatever it takes."

Over his paterfamilias' shoulder he saw the girl in question, dancing with Potter. His father was right, as ever. She was making a mockery of him, when she should be providing him with what he was owed by this law and would advance his family. He would emulate his father as much as possible, do whatever was necessary. "Alright."

* * *

Hermione found herself gulping nervously as she watched her husband swallow down mouthful after mouthful of alcohol. Eventually she moved over to him and suggested gingerly, "Maybe you should stop."

He looked at her blurrily as if he didn't even recognise her at first. Then his eyes became completely cold. "You do not order me what to do."

"No," she started. "I just-" But he'd taken her hand and was dragging her along. She didn't protest like usual. Maybe he was going upstairs and she could get him into bed before he collapsed or got into a brawl. She wasn't exactly sure which type of drunk he was. When they got to the level where the bedrooms were he went straight into the one on the left rather than hers on the right. She was surprised by the lack of differences to her room, having not been in any of the other bedrooms before. It seemed like a guest room, rather than something personalised and special. Her own room was littered with her favourite books and trophies and certificates and photos of her friends and family. Remnants of the child she'd been and the woman she was now. She turned around from inspecting his room to articulate something like this to the owner of it, but the words died on her lips when he pinned her down on the bed, fumbling drunkenly with his mother's dress. A startled scream itched up her throat but the delay it took because of her surprise was long enough for him to put an arm across her mouth to cushion the sound momentarily. Once he'd worked out her dress he used that hand to pull his wand out of his belt. She subconsciously reached for her own in her boot, only to realise she was wearing impractical kitten heels. "What the hell are you do-" she managed to get out in a rush but he ignored her with a hissed "silencio."

Looking towards the door desperately for a way out, she continued to struggle under him under him until he immobilised her with a freezing charm. She felt like she was hyperventilating without actually doing so, which was even more disconcerting.

No matter how quick he was with pulling off his clothes and pounding into her motionless body she couldn't stop thinking that whilst other times may have been more dull or less passionate, this was the first one that it was not at all consensual. It was also the first time, if she was being honest, that she hadn't felt attracted to him. Instead she felt terrified and revulsed. At last she thought it was over but then he repositioned himself and thrust between her petrified legs again. It was horrifying, but the spell didn't make her numb. She couldn't shut her eyes or imagine she was lying on a beach somewhere. She had to live through every painful moment and then suffer the rough, bruised aftermath.

When the spell wore off she still didn't move, just lying on his bed. He didn't kick her out. He'd fallen asleep, a luxury she wasn't awarded. The hours passed by in a timeless blank page and finally she gathered the physical strength and mental will power to pull herself off of the bed towards the door. She half expected him to pull her down for another round, but he continued to snore, dreamless sleep, probably. When she shut the door behind him she leant against it for a moment with her eyes closed and took in what had just happened, wondering if opening them would pull her out of this nightmare and she'd be back in the much more bearable one of fighting He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Hearing footsteps nearby, she opened her eyes and saw Lucius Malfoy skulking in the corner, sending a brief smile her way before retreating to his own bedroom. She could tell he was up to something, but in that moment the only Malfoy she had room for rage towards was her husband.

* * *

The anti-hangover potion didn't remove the sick feeling in the pit of Draco's stomach. He knew he'd made a mistake. He should have been forceful but not used force. He'd felt shameful, but last night hadn't put him in control; it was still his father and the drink pulling the strings. He was still just a useless puppet, absolutely despicable. Not that it mattered. They weren't friends. He didn't care what she thought about him and she had never felt anything good. It didn't matter that he found her bushy hair endearing these days, or thought her eyes looked like silky chocolate. Never mind the fact that she was probably the smartest person he'd ever met or that he admired the way she worked relentlessly until she got what she wanted. They were just too different, regardless of what the stupid test said, and he'd finally solidified that eternally. There was no going back from this.


	8. Chapter VII

**_Chapter VII:_**

The rest of the holidays were a sort of indistinct blur. Malfoy's parents became more tolerable, he never acted so violently again, but she didn't feel like she lived through any of it. She was just waiting for the days to drag on until she could go back home. To Hogwarts. To her friends. Even when she arrived things weren't the same though.

The Ministry had instituted a new mandatory class for all sixth and seventh years called Baby and Me or BAM as the students nicknamed it rather aggressively. It was run by a reluctant Madame Pomfrey, who seemed to believe she had more important things to do, and unfortunately it involved sitting next to Malfoy and working with him on every task. Thankfully she could also sit next to Ginny, who was another member of the class, along with her husband, but there were disappointingly few instances where they actually got to interact, despite sitting feet away from each other. The lesson wasn't just dull, it was also humiliating because ever since she arrived back at school, Hermione had been needing to go to the toilet constantly. Perhaps the Malfoys had jinxed her as a fond farewell present. Whether that was true or not, she had to trek down the hall three times during the hour long period, at each one receiving sniggers and stares. At the end of the lesson the medi-witch asked her to stay behind. Hermione fidgeted nervously in her seat, both because she was expecting her first lecture on the importance of focus in class and because she needed to wee again. But when Madame Pomfrey spoke, it was to ask her a health question.

"Have you been experiencing headaches, Miss Granger? Tiredness, sore breasts, perhaps an ache in your lower back?" Hermione nodded to every symptom, brought on, she supposed by the events of the last couple of weeks. The matron sat down on the desk in front of her and folded her hands neatly over her legs with an optimistic smile. "I think you might really be pregnant this time."

Dizziness shaking her, Hermione clung to edges of her chair like she was on a rollercoaster. "I-I haven't had any nausea," she fumbled over the words, then said more confidently, resolute that she must be wrong. "And I'm currently on my period."

"Not every woman experiences the misleadingly named morning sickness," she chuckled. "Maybe you're one of the lucky ones. And has your 'period' been lighter or earlier than usual?" Both. "Some expecting mothers do experience slight bleeding. Nothing to worry about." Oh she was worried. How could she have felt disappointed she wasn't pregnant before? It was unendingly selfish to want to bring a baby into this life. She would stay married to Malfoy forever without the hope of divorce if she could spare a child that pain.

* * *

Unfortunately she no longer had that option. She was pregnant. She remembered how her friends had been ecstatic: owling their parents; researching charms for musical spinning mobiles; cooing over tiny baby boots. She didn't change her behaviour at all; instead trying to continue as though everything was perfectly normal and she'd never received the news at all. To fool both others and herself.

At the end of their second BAM lesson they were given a homework assignment to care for a magical baby doll that would report back how well it had been treated and in which areas they needed to improve. She remembered her cousin Chloe telling her that muggle schools did a similar thing, but obviously with much less lifelike dolls. When they got back to their common room she bounced it silently in the baby carrier they'd been provided whilst Malfoy magically assembled the crib. Suddenly it let out a high pitched shriek and began to cry a river of tears, breaking their eardrums. "Where are the nappies?" Yelled Malfoy over the racket.

She grabbed one from the bag and gingerly set to work. "I'll do it." When it didn't quiet the noise he called out to let him burp it. "I'll do it." Or to let him feed it. "I'll do it."

"You need to let me do something."

"I'm not sure I want you near the baby," she sent angrily over her shoulder.

He fixed her with a look that said 'really?'. "The doll or the hypothetical human?"

"Either." She snapped.

He took a long frustrated breath and pinched his nose. "Okay. Well I've got plenty of time to convince you otherwise. Let's start with you letting me-"

"You don't have much time at all, actually," she corrected him. He looked at her perplexed. "I'm pregnant. Probably from when you raped me." The word cut any remaining tie between them like a sharp pair of scissors and the coffee table separating them expanded into a limitless chasm.

"You're pregnant?" He took a step forward, and she took one back, placing one hand protectively over her stomach. He held up his hands in surrender, taking the bottle and feeding the doll, silencing it's crying. She hated him for that success. "I know I hurt you, but I want this child. Whatever you think, I won't just forget about it when our five years are up. She surveyed him cautiously. Then she slowly unstrapped the doll and handed it over, stupidly refusing to let go for a moment- it wasn't a real baby. He gave her a thankful nod as he cradled it, humming whilst slowly lowering it down into the crib, where it lay snoring. How could he be so good with fake babies? It made no sense whatsoever. "I swear Hermione," he promised, watching her, watching their future play out. "I'll do better."


	9. Chapter VIII

**_Chapter VIII:_**

Studying for N.E.W.T's and studying for having a baby were two very time consuming occupations which seemed to battle it out for Hermione's time. Around her room, books were balanced precariously containing information on how to mix a perfect Draught of Living Death and another on how to swaddle a child. Better not get those instructions mixed up. She was actually thankful for the BAM classes now that they directly related to her, and most of sixth and seventh year- it seemed like three quarters of the girls were pregnant by now. They were all doing the maths to see if they could get maternity leave from end of year exams, but the Ministry seemed to have returned the pairings so that by the time they got them even those who started trying straight away would be due at the earliest at the end of June or early July, when most of the exams were done. Ginny was in that position- she and Blaise had 'gotten to know each other' as soon as they'd received their letters, seeing little point to wait until they were officially married. Her friend's bump was pretty pronounced by now but apparently life was actually easier in the second trimester. The nausea was gone and her sex drive was back with a passion- more than enough description for Hermione. Personally, she was feeling a little blue about how surprisingly stellar a father Malfoy was proving to be to their fake baby. She'd thought this child would be her companion to keep her sane in a house full of people that hated her but it seemed that, if he got on as well with the real baby as he did with the doll, he would be the one their child ran to for comfort. She had never planned to be an obsessive stay-at-home mum, but that didn't mean she didn't want to be a good mum! One that her kids-kid- didn't see as utterly inadequate! When they handed the doll back after a month it reported that both its parents had treated it well, but Malfoy had been the one that had given it the best emotional support. She was so frustrated she'd been panicking and studying non-stop, so that she'd barely seen the friends she'd missed so much over Christmas, until they staged an intervention.

Whilst everyone else ate breakfast, she was thumbing through another childcare book from the new section added to the library, when Harry swiped it out from under her nose. "Hey!" She exclaimed, reaching out for it as he slid it into his bag and Ron pushed a plate containing a full English under her nose.

"You're eating for two now," he pointed out. "And you're going to need a lot of energy today."

"Why?" She questioned suspiciously, although she picked up a fork and jabbed a sausage, she was starving now that they brought attention to it. Neither of them would answer her questions, saying that it was a surprise.

After they'd eaten they dragged her down the grounds, to the Quidditch pitch, where they were greeted by a mixed cohort of Slytherins and Gryffindors, plus Luna. Hermione ooked at them confusedly, surprised to see them all together willingly. "Why do I need energy to watch you guys ride around on brooms?"

"Because you're going to be the one riding around on a broom!" Declared Ron with fervent delight. Oh no.

She shook her head. Flying was a lesson she'd never mastered. "I'm carrying a life."

"That's why Madame Pomfrey set up a giant inflatable mattress in case you girls fall," announced Neville, as if that solved everything. The ridiculousness of a giant bouncy castle floor made Hermione burst out laughing, and the other girls joined her too, but the boys, and Ginny, had their broomsticks out and were handing them each one as well.

"Apparently exercise is super important for pregnancies," explained Harry knowledgeably.

His wife raised a dangerous manicured eyebrow. "Are you calling me fat?"

"Of course not babe!" They all cringed at the pet name, but Daphne just arched closer to him expectantly. "You're the skinniest pregnant woman I've ever seen!" As a reward for the compliment she kissed him on the cheek, again evoking disgusted expressions.

"Sally-Anne refused to participate," said Ron pointedly. His wife was standing a few feet away from him nursing her stomach, looking quite bored to be here at all. "So Luna volunteered to be an honorary Gryffindor to make up the numbers."

"I didn't know that was an option!" Hermione started but her two best friends each grabbed an arm and wrestled her onto the field before she could join Ron's wife.

"Prepare for utter destruction, mudblood," challenged Pansy, which actually invigorated Hermione to get on that broom and go.

"Woah!" She cried out as she tipped sideways, but it wasn't actually as bad as she remembered once she got her balance. She was designated to be keeper, probably so that she didn't fall off her broom zipping around and could just stay in the goal instead. Harry and Seamus were the beaters with Luna, Neville and Ron the chasers, and Ginny took on her ex's position of seeker. On the other team, Ginny competed with the ultra-focused Pansy, swooping around the sky hurling insults at each other. Hermione let herself get distracted by them momentarily because the other players were all down by Nott's end of the court but when she looked back to the main action her heart gave a startled leap because Daphne was throwing a quaggle, or whatever they were called, right at her. She supposed the blonde could have thrown it into one of the other two hoops than the one Hermione was in front of, which made guarding even harder than the football she'd suffered through in PE, but clearly she wanted to make her feel inadequate!

The Slytherins cheered and whooped as it flew right past her, and she resolved that she would stop the next one. Of course, that was a lot easier said than done when Zabini faked like he was going to throw it in the top one, so she flew up there, and then switched direction at the last minute. When Malfoy tried to score though, she knew she couldn't let him past if she wanted to retain any form of dignity. She steeled her expression and latched onto him, moving uncertainly up and down as she tried to determine where he would go. She was starting to feel sick, and it wasn't from the pregnancy nor the loop the loop she was currently doing. His cold, focused eyes reminded her too much of that night. As the quaffle came towards her she outstretched her hands above her head, realising she was at the wrong goal but determined to do this anyway. The ball landed in her hands with a rough, victorious thud, and she grinned dizzily, but her teammates were yelling in warning rather than joy. She looked up just in time for a heavy black mass to smash into her.

* * *

Yelling, swearing, blaming. That was Ron, she thought, cursing every Slytherin there. Nott was defending the two beaters, saying it wasn't them, and both Millicent and Goyle were sounding their agreement in their innocence, the girl Hermione had once tried to take on the appearance of sounding off that she would admit it if she was responsible. It was a rather great idea to take out the keeper and leave the goals free. Her eyes fluttered, but she clenched them shut stubbornly like she used to do when she was five in the car and she didn't want her parents to talk to her. She was pretty sure they never believed her, but they did leave her alone. No such luck today. Someone said they needed to get her up to the hospital wing, suggesting levitation but another voice, with an audible scowl asked if they wanted her head to get smashed open. They came towards her and she opened her eyes, just a slither, to see Malfoy about to pick her up.

Scrambling away ineffectively on the bouncy floor beneath her she shrieked "no! No! Leave me alone! Don't touch me!" Everyone's eyes snapped to him, even his friends looked suspicious. She felt tears prickling at her eyes and cursed the pregnancy hormones. If she cried right now in front of all these people, especially the ones wearing green and silver, she was going to ground this baby as soon as it was born. Malfoy took a step back, looking at her with something she couldn't decipher in his eyes. It wasn't threatening. It was more like... hurt? He had no right to be hurt. Evidently he knew this because the expression disappeared as quickly as it had shown up. "I can walk," she argued, getting woozily to her feet. Her friends rushed forwards to help her up.

They took her up to the hospital wing, where it appeared she just had a minor concussion. His friends had long since disappeared but Malfoy insisted on staying until it was ascertained that the baby was alright. Neither Harry, Ron nor Ginny left until he had, the three of them each telling her in their own words that she could tell them if he'd done something to her. She knew they'd be watching him much more closely now and she felt an absurd sense of guilt. Just because he cared about the baby it didn't mean he cared about her. He'd shown that. But something in her still felt bad about reacting to him like she had. Not that it meant she trusted him. He was still a deadly viper in her book, he probably always would be.


	10. Chapter IX

**_Chapter IX:_**

One night in March when they were scheduled to patrol together Ron came down with the flu and had to cancel. Inconveniently, none of the other prefects were available either, that or they were lying because they didn't want to do an extra shift. She would have to do it with Malfoy. The two of them walked in silence down the lamp lit hallways, somewhat hoping to find a few troublemakers to break up the uncomfortable silence. "Ginny felt the baby kick last week," she told him finally, unwilling to bare it any longer.

"Cool." He glanced at her stomach. "How long until, uh-"

"She's a good three months ahead of me, so a long while yet." He nodded. Peeves' mischievous giggle echoed towards them but she couldn't tell where it was coming from.

"Like you say, it's a long while off yet, but have you started thinking of any names?" She tipped her head to the side, her eyes sliding across to him, and then shrugged. You'd think it would be one of the first things to occur to her, but she hadn't thought about it at all really. He was still looking at her and, realising he was waiting for some type of signal that he could go on without her hexing his brains out, she nodded minutely. "What about Scorpius?" She made a face and he hastily went to its defence. "It's almost an oxymoron: Latin for scorpion, so it has a dangerous side; but it also means love and hope from the stars." It had sounded a little pretentious, but that meaning was really quite beautiful. Besides, you had to consider pretentiousness differently when your last name would be Malfoy. Scorpius Malfoy. It flowed off the tongue. Not wanting to concede too much to him, she just made a noncommittal noise and agreed to add it to the list.

"What about for a girl?"

Malfoy scoffed. She raised an eyebrow and he made a sort of 'Are you kidding' expression. "Malfoy first borns are always male."

She rolled her eyes. "Well Granger 'first borns'," What an archaic thing to say! "Have been both genders, so I think we should plan for the possibility- just in case." The sarcasm made her feel a little more comfortable. This was familiar. She could do this. After a little more back and forth they decided to head down to the library for some late night research. There were no lanterns in there so they each cast a lumos charm and split up to find relevant books. Feeling victorious, Hermione called out "I've got it!"

"Confident," he drawled as he made his way over. She waved the book like a fan.

"Well if I do say so myself, I've found a name that compliments your choice perfectly." He made an interested "mm?" Noise so she pressed on. "Seraphina." It sounded even more beautiful to say aloud. "It's Hebrew for fiery, but it's derived from the seraphim, the most powerful angels in mythology."

"Our little multi-faceted kid," he smiled. "You know what, Scorpius and Seraphina would make amazing sibling names." At the implication that she would ever have more children with him she snapped the book shut and glared. He quickly backtracked. "I mean, if they were twins." Nice save.

* * *

The hardest homework assignment Hermione ever received was to write a love letter to her future baby. Madame Pomfrey said it would be a beautiful opportunity to talk to them before they could physically do so and, with a chuckle, that it would be something to look back on when they were in the terrible twos or teens screaming at them. Hermione sat down in the common room with a piece of parchment and a quill and wrote _Dear S,_

Drops of ink splattered onto the page as she held it up uncertainly. She scratched her head with the feather, experiencing total writer's block. This felt a little silly, writing to someone that wasn't in existence yet. Surely she could say everything she wanted to them in the years they would soon have together sequestered at the manor. She sighed at the thought.

Leaving his room to head to Quidditch practise, Malfoy had a piece of parchment in his hand. "Is that your BAM homework?" She asked.

He nodded, passing it to her without her needing to ask. He didn't stick around for her to read it though. Fine with her, she didn't want him staring at her while she tried to read in peace.

 _Dear Scorpius_ , she rolled her eyes at his stubbornness.

 _I don't know if this will be the first time you discover it, but I hope it is. I hope you grow up in a rose tinted wonderland, never knowing about the darkness that came before you. That said, I will never lie to you. Your mother and I didn't fall in love the traditional way. We didn't fall in love at all. After the Second Wizarding War, the Ministry for Magic introduced a law whereby Hogwarts students would be matched and married to increase the GWP in Great Britain. I expected I'd be paired with a Greenglass or a Parkinson, but I never expected to be paired with your mum. To put it bluntly, we had a pretty awful childhood relationship. I'd been raised to hate everything she was and everything she stood for, so we would never get along, but I'll admit, over the years, I developed a grudging respect for her. She was always ahead of me in class, ahead of everyone. She said what she thought about me to my face, which many didn't. She stood up for herself and her friends- she punched me in Third Year! I'm sure she's going to bring these traits to you as well. She'll be protective, wise, honest. Anyway, when we were paired I continued doing her wrong, no matter my best efforts. I truly wanted to make the best of a bad situation, but I guess a good relationship between us just wasn't meant to be. I just couldn't control my hurtful nature. I'm not going to swear I won't ever hurt you, but I'll do my best. I want you to look at me and see a father, not a monster. Silly as it sounds, it's my greatest goal in life right now. I'll try and do better Scorpius, for both you and your mother. I'll try and make things right._

 _-Father_

A knock on the portrait door jolted Hermione out of her snotty snivelling. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, momentarily panicking it might be him and then realising that, of course, he had the password. She peered outside to find a witch with usually stern eyes turned sad with a hint of anger. "Professor McGonagall!" She'd never seen the headmistress in this part of the school. When she wanted to speak with them they met in her office, not their rooms. "Is everything alright?" She could tell it wasn't. There was a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

"Is Mr Malfoy within?" Asked the transfiguration teacher.

She shook her head. "He has Quidditch practise. What's going on?"

Her question remained unanswered, instead McGonagall just said, "I think you should follow me."

It was only mid-afternoon so there was still plenty of students buzzing around but it felt like they were in a bubble of sombreness. It took her a while, but when she realised they were heading towards the hospital wing Hermione just knew something had gone wrong with a pregnancy. McGonagall was mad at the Ministry, not at her. Who was it though; Ginny, Luna? Unfamiliar sobs. They were outside the doors now. Hermione took a shaky breath and went inside.

Lying on a bed, blood everywhere like a sick horror film, was Millicent Bulstrode-Finnegan. It was someone she'd never seen be anything but strong and confrontational so seeing her this broken was jarring and heart wrenching. Seamus was talking to his parents and Millicent's, the latter looking disturbingly disappointed in their daughter rather than sympathetic towards her. Hermione felt a little out of place, but Seamus seemed glad to see her, perhaps it gave him more of a sense of normalcy in this world tipping moment. She hugged him and then went to sit beside the Slytherin girl, unsure of what to say. She remembered the spotting of blood she'd experienced, the physical trauma when she'd fallen from the sky. All signs pointed towards her miscarrying rather than Millicent. She was subconsciously cradling her own bump, but when she saw the other girl looking at her she dropped her hands awkwardly to her sides, feeling incredibly guilty for still having her own baby. "Is there anything I can do for you?" She asked.

Millicent looked at her bleary eyed. "I've never been anything but heinous to you Granger," she didn't correct her on the name. "You being nice to me right now makes everything seem so much more real. Something must be seriously wrong for that to happen," she sniffled. "Just get my friends." She nodded, squeezing her hand impulsively on the way out. For just a second Millicent gripped back, as if she needed an anchor, some type of support.


	11. Chapter X

_**Chapter X:**_

 _ **AN: I'm glad so many of you enjoyed the last chapter even though it did have a very sad ending :(**_

Millicent and Seamus were excused from BAM classes for a month and their lack of presence was felt keenly. No-one chattered and gushed over their soon-to-be babies, instead they were all quiet, pensive, protective, asking their teacher for tips on how to avoid a miscarriage. Unfortunately she had little to give them in that way. After she visited the almost parents Hermione knew what she wanted to write to her own child.

 _Dear S,_

 _Today another mother in my year lost her baby. I feel more keenly than ever that I never want to let you go, but of course that's a part of life. My parents are muggles, as I'm sure your grandparents on your dad's side will tell you frequently in terms that are much more aggressive and much less accurate. They had never heard of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft And Wizardry, so they were understandably reluctant to send their eleven year old only child off to Scotland on the word of a crazy old man. But if they hadn't, I would have remained a friendless loner instead of one third of the Golden Trio. I would have read about adventures rather than experienced my own. I would never have discovered my true purpose, or had you. I know your dad thinks he's fully to blame, and don't get me wrong, he 99% is, but I can try and include him a little more as well if I want you to have the best life possible, which I do. Two loving parents, even if they don't love each other. That's my hope for you._

 _-Mum_

* * *

When Millicent and Seamus returned to BAM they worked quietly without answering questions or talking to the others but they seemed to take comfort in each other's' presence. Hermione was trying to make an effort with Malfoy, starting with not calling him Malfoy. She thought her child had less chance of being messed up if its parents called each other by their first names rather than slurs or abrasive surnames. Besides, he'd been mainly calling her Hermione for months, with the odd slip up, and it was a bit strange to call him by his last name when he wasn't doing the same to her. Step two of Operation Friendly-If-Not-Friends was a little more difficult. She had to get to know him. She knew he liked potions, Quidditch and tormenting muggleborns, but apart from that she was at quite a loss. She encouraged him to do work in their common room rather than how he used to in his room so that they could avoid each other. Sometimes they would help each other and, loath as she was to admit it, he really was a talented wizard and could often fill in the few blanks in her knowledge, making them a pretty good team. After they were done she'd engage him in a little conversation to tease out information: during their sessions she learnt that he valued the fraternity amongst the friends he'd made from childhood and since he'd arrived at Hogwarts, he liked to read books with a twist as opposed to the usual predictable story of heroism and triumph over evil, and he loved travelling and wanted to give those types of opportunities to their child. Apparently the places he'd been taken were some of the best memories he had with his own father. The way he said that made her think there weren't too many other positive memories, so she asked him about his relationship with his parents. He got defensive then and turned the question on her. She answered with a shrug. "Normal, I guess. They've always encouraged me to follow my goals and given me unconditional love. When I was about 9 or 10 we started to argue a bit more, I think going to boarding school limits that because when I come home they're usually just happy to see me and our arguments are pretty limited." Seeing that he would have to answer, Draco reluctantly explained that he'd grown up thinking of his mother as poised, elegant, beautiful. "What about your father?" She asked gingerly, feeling like she was approaching a stray dog that would spook or scratch if she tried to push it too far.

"More complex," he shuffled his papers into a pile, clearing his throat. "Ever since I remember he raised me to know that I was top-tier royalty, for being a wizard, a pure-blood and a Malfoy. He always told me that it was a tragedy that the Dark Lord hadn't succeeded, but that I could never raise those opinions to anyone outside our circle or there would be serious consequences." Without realising it his fingers brushed his back and she remembered the scars she'd felt more than once. They'd been from Quidditch, or some skirmish in the wall, she'd assumed. She'd never questioned them, actually they'd passed right over her head without even considering them part of his appearance. "He's an authoritarian, like the Malfoys before him," he said in a slightly stronger voice, as if trying to protect his father from her opinion. Too late for that. "But he always wanted what was best for my mother and me. He protected us. When he was put in Azkaban we were lost. I had to step up for her. The Dark Lord gave me a task," he didn't say which one. He didn't need to. "To prove myself, and I agreed, to return my father to favour. But I refused Snape's help out of a selfish desire for glory, when really I was crumbling under the pressure. Despite my father's best attempts to toughen me up I was too weak!" His voice cracked with passion and for a moment she thought he was going to cry. She wasn't sure what she would do if he did. "Snape covered for me, but nevertheless we had fallen irrevocably in the Dark Lord's standings. I only proved myself weaker when I failed to identify you lot at the skirmish."

"That's not weakness Draco," she told him resolutely. "It's compassion. Something I'm not sure your father possesses."

"Maybe." He didn't seem convinced. "Either way he scrambled to get us out of it when the Dark Lord fell, and he's still scrambling as I speak." She wasn't quite sure what that was supposed to mean, but she was fairly certain she'd learnt as much as she was going to today.

* * *

Hermione had made a deal with the Malfoys allowing her to stay with her parents for the first week of Easter. However, they were concerned about the safety of the baby in the _dangerous_ muggle neighbourhood of Heathgate, Hampstead, so they took the risk of sending their precious heir into what they considered to be a pigsty. He was not particularly excited about it either, at least he tried to appear apathetic. In truth, she thought he seemed a little nervous. About going into a muggle area? About meeting her parents? When he got off the train with her he remained silent, unsure how to react without any rules like he'd given her. Good, she was going to leave him blind. This was how human interactions were supposed to go. As soon as she saw her parents Hermione raced towards them with a bright grin. "Mum! Dad!" She squealed, launching herself into their arms in a group hug.

"Oh darling!" Her Mum cried out. "It's so good to see you."

"You're so big!" Her Dad observed in surprise, marvelling at her stomach, which was about half the size of Ginny's massive thing.

"Thanks Dad," she scoffed sarcastically.

He backtracked nervously, evidently knowing the danger of an affronted pregnant woman first hand. "In a glowing way."

"Men," Jean rolled her eyes to her daughter.

"Women," Richard countered with a similar look at the Slytherin. "Isn't that right Malfoy?"

"Draco!" She hissed, her face flushing at how terribly this was going already.

Her parents looked at her strangely. "Speak up honey," her Dad said. "Haven't we always told you to project confidence?"

"Excellent advice," Draco said slyly with an innocent nod to her father.

She cast him a scathing look. "Draco. His name is Draco. First name: Draco. Last name: Malfoy." The tension rocketed up six fold.

"That's a strange name. Both names," Jean said blandly, studying him carefully, remembering what her daughter had told her about him. Draco did not like being studied.

"Hermione's not exactly in the top 100 most popular either, is it?" He paused, perhaps realising he shouldn't insult his in-laws if he wanted to get on their, or her for that matter, good side. "Which is exactly what makes it so special." She had to hand it to him, his save was a lot smoother than her dad's. The Grangers smiled at him in a way that said 'we're going to give you a chance but if you hurt our daughter you're out' and his Adam's apple contracted. She stifled a giggle, doubting he ever thought he'd find a pair of muggles intimidating.


	12. Flashforward II

**_Flashforward II:_**

Seraphina Malfoy released her long curly hair from its oppressive ponytail and let it bounce out around her face in a crazy cloud. She'd learnt to embrace it long ago, but it could be inconvenient whilst flying through the air, the wind whipping it into her face. She marched into the library, the few pale students who couldn't stand the sun fanning out of her way as they felt her wave of authority moving towards them. "Miss Malfoy!" Madam Pince called out in an affronted stage whisper. "You're trekking mud onto the carpet!" Sera gave her the apologetic charm of a smile that always cooled any angry adult or teen and took off her boots, holding them up in a gesture of surrender. The stern librarian nodded her on with the smallest of chuckles. Back on the path towards her mission, the platinum blonde locked into her target and made her presence known with a loud cough. "Shush!" A younger tell-tale type whispered before realising it was her and darting into an aisle of bookshelves to hide. Sera rolled her eyes, then said to the girl glancing up at her expectantly, "you weren't at the match."

It was a statement, not a question, but the one eighth Veela could infer between the lines. She was an absurdly smart girl. "I quit the team."

As long as she'd known her, Dominique had adored Quidditch, but the only response Sera showed was a nonchalant "Oh," and a raised eyebrow. She slid down to sit on the floor beside her, leaning against the bookcase. "We smashed Ravenclaw no problem without you. It was pretty boring. No competition whatsoever. Professor Longbottom's daughter, Aurora, took your spot as keeper, but she doesn't have your focus. Easily distracted."

"Exactly why I quit," Dom explained, gesturing to the mountain of work around her.

"You can't have been assigned that much work," Sera said disbelievingly. "I was in your place last year, remember?" Dom was in the year below her sister and Sera, but she knew and had mastered spells they'd never heard of.

"It's revision," the blonde explained. Her hair was a darker shade than her sister's and not so pin straight but Sera wasn't sure what all the fuss was around that hair of Victoire's. She thought Dom's was much nicer, although it admittedly looked a little ratty at the moment. Her eyes were a slightly different shade of blue as well, the stormy, interesting kind rather than the calm, shallow, clear tropical seas that attracted every old holiday maker. And then of course there was the difference in work ethic. Even before Victoire had started dating her metamorphagous boyfriend she'd preferred other things. And now... well suffice it to say that if she and Teddy didn't have the contraception charm perfected there'd be a sixteenth Veela baby with blue hair one day and green the next crawling around the castle. Dom on the other hand had always been an over-achiever. Previously that had entailed taking on as many responsibilities as possible: Ravenclaw keeper; prefect and probable Head Girl; chair of the Ancient Runes Club; founder of the Wizarding and Muggle Literature Appreciation Society. Now it appeared that she was getting bogged down with one thing.

"You know everything already."

"No-one can ever know everything. And anything could be on my exams next year..." she was losing her. Desperate, Sera flashed 'the smile'. The one that had never failed before. But Dom just picked up her book and turned to the page she'd been making notes from.

Sera's forehead furrowed. "It didn't work..." she muttered to herself. "Why didn't it work?"

"I have more important things to do than look at your pretty face," Dom said, but there was an edge of panic in her voice rather than anger. She took a shaky breath. "I- I feel guilty when I'm not working. I can't stand it."

"Dom..." Sera said in a soft voice she reserved for people she really cared about. "Everyone gets anxious sometimes. Even me."

Her companion guffawed, finally looking away from her book at least. "Shut up."

"I do!" Sera exclaimed. She pushed back a piece of wind-knotted hair. "I feel... unanchored without the marriage law." The law that had united all their parents had been discontinued last year when the GWP (general Wizarding population) had reached its hoped for level, meaning they'd both just narrowly missed out on it. She'd never had so much as a romantic interaction with anyone. She had known that the test would place her with her true match and like the official stat of 97% of people, she would live happily ever after. Now she had to do it herself, had to find love, and she had no clue where to start. "I'm- terrified of being alone. I know it goes completely against my whole strong independent woman aesthetic, but it's the truth." She glanced down and when she looked to her right Dom had shifted a little closer, leaning in to push another loose strand of hair back for her. They both observed each other in the silence of the library, faces centimetres apart, and then they leaned in.

She'd thought she would be lost as to what to do in a first kiss but her body led the way, tilting her head to one side as Dom's went to the other. Their lips melded together softly, exploratory, uncertain. They were both nervous of ruining what they had, but she supposed it was too late for that now. May as well just dive headfirst in. Gingerly she reached up a hand to twine her fingers into Dom's silky hair, which felt wonderful even if she hadn't been taking care of herself well recently. Sort of rocking towards each other, hungry for more affection, they bumped heads and pulled apart with a synchronised giggle. It was going too well, she supposed, something had to bend.

"Without that it would have been too much like a romance novel," agreed Dom aloud, and Sera wondered if maybe she'd found her someone faster than she ever thought she could without the law.

 _ **AN: Short but sweet!**_


	13. Chapter XI

**_Chapter XI:_**

The first half of the holidays went pretty well, if she did say so herself. Draco managed not to insult her parents or worse, her in front of her parents, although she saw him struggle a couple of times. It was rather hilarious to watch him ward off the demon in the box, as he called the TV, or to listen to his warnings, face dead serious, that in his expert opinion the rumbling and scratching emanating from the room containing the washing machine was probably a ghost. The way they managed to avoid any major arguments was by mostly talking about the baby. Her parents had plenty of practical and emotional tips. When they had to leave at the end of the first week of half term her parents gave her a smarties Easter egg and Draco an aero one. Perhaps a little passive aggressive jab, but he didn't notice, just seeming stunned and touched instead. Promising that they would come visit soon, but having no clue when soon might be, she took in her parents' features like a permanent imprint as she placed her hand on her husband's inner arm and felt her home disintegrate into his, gripping onto him.

* * *

The Malfoys didn't have any Easter eggs for them. Unlike Christmas, they didn't celebrate it. She wasn't sure whether that was a pure-blood thing or a _them_ thing, because Mrs Weasley always sent a package of beautifully home-decorated Easter eggs, but perhaps she'd been inspired by her husband's love of muggle culture. Either way, they had better believe this house would be full of chocolate for her kid to indulge on at this time of year if she had any say in it. She spent most of her time at the manor revising for the upcoming exams, but one afternoon Narcissa asked her to take a break to come garden with her. Hermione had never been in the back garden before, but she supposed she shouldn't be surprised that it wasn't really a garden. More of a fabulously eccentric park. There were fountains in the shape of wands spewing water like magic, endless plots of flowers and peacocks strutting across the grounds as proudly as their owners did. Trimmed hedges on either side of her served as statues to Malfoys present and past, leading towards a grand green maze. It was all so ridiculous that she could barely keep her laughter in.

When they were a good distance from the manor, Narcissa bent down and began to pull out a weed, gloves on of course, splattering mud all over her pristine pale blue dress anyway. She brushed it off easily enough and said in a low tone. "Things are about to get a lot more difficult for you Hermione." She said it in such a casual tone that it took the younger witch a moment to realise she hadn't just commented on the weather or her outfit. Was it a threat, a warning? The delivery had been so bland she couldn't tell. "My husband may have recognised the necessity for a half-blood child, but that doesn't mean he will readily accept it when it appears as true flesh and blood."

"Nec-?" Oh. Of course. What did Lucius desire above all else? Power and influence. What was the way to get that in the Wizarding World? Through the Ministry. What stance did the current Ministry support? Equality and the marriage law. So it stood to reason that if Lucius supported these then he could regain a high ranking position and once more have power in the government and legislative. What Draco had said a couple of months ago about his father trying to protect and advance the family's interests made so much more sense, but it wasn't true. The only interests he cared about were his own.

Narcissa turned to her with a smile that didn't fit the situation. "I fear that he will be excessively harsh to the child." Hermione glanced briefly toward the manor and thought she saw a fleeting figure watching them.

"Thank you for the warning Mrs Malfoy," she nodded gratefully.

* * *

"Young lady, a word please." Hermione objected heartily to being called 'young lady', but she supposed it was better than filthy slag, although the inflection made it sound on a similar level. Cautiously she stepped into Lucius' office. They'd never been alone in a room together and she had an impending sense of dread and fear that made her feel powerless; an emotion she did not like to feel in the slightest.

He didn't ask her to be seated, despite lounging in a chair behind his desk with a glass of red himself. She hovered uncertainly in front of it, happy to stand if it meant that she could get away faster. Sitting down seemed to indicate a longer conversation. "The bairn in your belly grows by the day," he observed, unimpressively. That was generally how pregnancies worked. "It's time we had a discussion about how this child will be raised."

She narrowed her eyes. "Isn't that something Draco and I should be having a 'discussion' about?"

"Draco knows what I expect of him!" He snapped. "You do not." He had his wand out and was tapping it periodically on the desk like a cane, making her cringe. Wands were supposed to be prized possessions, not weapons of torture to toss about casually. "Firstly, your muggle parents." He sneered. "They will be permitted to visit the manor once a month whilst I am out, as I suppose it is the lesser of two evils; easier to bleach out the smell of mud from the house than from the brain of an indoctrinated child." She bristled. What type of hurtful propaganda did he think her parents dealt in? Or was it just the mere prospect of muggle culture making this half-blood any less wizard than it already was? "Second, the name will be chosen from a list of approved options." She was ready to argue that they'd already decided on names, but he plowed right on like a destructive wildfire. "The child will be fed by the same nanny who did the same for Draco-"

At this, she could no longer hold on her protests. "It is my choice whether or not to feed my child, and I choose to do so, we already have names, and my parents will see my baby whenever they bloody well want to!" She was red in the face and breathless, but he didn't seem impressed by her passion. Instead his face twisted into disgust, he placed his wine down and stood up, pointing his wand at her.

 _"Crucio._ " Her bones felt like they snapped, twisting and crying out, but she didn't even care for her own pain. How was this affecting her baby? Lucius strolled around the desk, keeping his wand and his eyes pointed at her the whole time to ensure maximum focus and suffering. " **You are nothing.** You will obey your superior, **vulgar mudblood.** " He brought his wand up and yanked her shirt up at the same time, so that she realised the marks on Draco's back were the same length as his father's wand. She was in so much agony she couldn't fight it remotely, couldn't even imagine where her own wand was or fathom rolling out of the way as an option. She clenched her eyes shut weakly but no scars would form on her back. Instead a raging hurricane flew into the room, blasting his father back with a light defensive spell they'd learnt as eleven year olds.

" _Expelliarmus_!" Malfoy Sr's wand flew into his son's open palm, abruptly ending her torture. Gasping, she stumbled away for him, grateful that the shock had made him release her shirt so she could do so. From behind Draco, she watched as he stood up to his father for the first time. "You will not hurt her," he hissed venomously. "I won't let you."

"You will not give me imperatives in my own house **boy**!" Lucius roared.

Draco grabbed her hand and spat out, "very well." He pulled her out of the room and up the stairs, but the dragging didn't feel so laboured and angry as it used to, at least not anger directed towards her. He paused outside his room, doubtless not wanting to take her back into the room where things had really crumbled for them, and dropped her hand. "Go pack," he barked out the order.

Her eyebrow furrowed. "Wha-?"

"We're getting out of here. Right now." He disappeared into his own room, and so she did the same, feeling slightly safer there than out on the open landing.

* * *

Hermione was doing up the locks on her trunk when she heard the door open and whipped around with her wand outstretched and a curse on her lips. She wouldn't say which one; that might get her in trouble with the law, but suffice it to say that it wasn't necessary.

"Bloody hell Gra-" he stopped himself. "Didn't know you had it in you." He helped her do up the last buckle as she asked where they were going. In response he just put a finger to his lips and pointed downwards.

"What about your mother?" She asked. "Aren't you going to tell her?"

"I'll send her an owl when we arrive," he said. Honestly she was just surprised that he was willing to go this far, to turn against the father he had always seemed to idolise- for her. He hadn't told Lucius to stay away from the baby, he'd told him to stay away from _her._ Draco offered her his arm and she clung onto it, thankful that the family could apparate from inside the house so they didn't have to walk past Lucius to get outside the gates, and confident that wherever he was taking her geographically, it would be to safety.

 ** _AN: Yay: finally out! How will Lucius respond?_**


	14. Chapter XII

**_Chapter XII:_**

The sun beat down on the stone mansion that managed to look a lot less intimidating than the one they'd just come from. It was smaller, for one thing. It looked a little more rustic and homey than like a foreboding base for You-Know-Who to rest and recuperate at. A little path bordered by bushes led to the front door, which Draco pulled open for her and allowed her to walk through first. The tour he gave her solidified her love for it. The wallpaper was lovely, the rooms were more modestly decorated, with a vibe a bit more like a holiday home than a fortress of evil. He had to pull white cloths off of a lot of the furniture, making her like it even more as it indicated that Lucius' presence hadn't infected the house in a long time, if ever. Draco paused in a room with bright green wallpaper. "This was my room," he gestured to the little bed that would in no way fit his frame today.

She chuckled. "How did I guess?"

He rolled his eyes in response, but then said, "I thought it could be the nursery." She told him she loved the idea. It was almost like giving the baby a family heirloom, which she wasn't sure Draco would be allowed to pass down when his father found out they'd gone. Speaking of...

"Where are we?" Hermione asked. "How are we sure your father won't find us?"

"Oh, he might be able to find us," Draco chuckled. "But he can't get in." He led her outside, where she could see that a rather large, but much smaller than the one she'd been in that morning, garden led down a path to the seaside. If it was winter it would be dark by now, but instead the sun was still high in the sky, glinting on the sea reflectively. She could practically hear a child's delighted shriek as they chased them back up to the house after a day playing on the sand and splashing each other in the water. "Cornwall," he answered for her, mirroring her smile. "When I was 17 it was passed over to me, and I've put up wards which will only allow apparition by our bloodline, henceforth." She turned to him, feeling ridiculously emotional. She wanted to fling herself into his arms and hug him, but she just thanked him instead. Not ready for that in any way. They settled down on deck chairs looking out at the scenery in a companionable silence and ate their chocolate eggs for dinner until they felt sick to the stomach, but simultaneously satisfied.

* * *

Of course, they couldn't live on Easter eggs forever. The next day they went down to the kitchen and Hermione taught Draco how to cook. Well, she taught him how to cook sausages, egg and beans. His repertoire wasn't going to be very extensive after one lesson, but he did prove able to master the singular dish, after nearly setting the kitchen on fire first! Narcissa owled to say that she'd be sending an elf to help them out in the summer anyway, so no need to worry. The whole few days were a magical, quiet experience free from the differences and the past separating them, and the looming long haired blond figure always hovering behind them. Nothing lasts forever though.

On the last day of half term Draco told her they needed to talk about his father. He said that even though they would no longer be living with him it didn't mean he was completely out of their lives. Honestly, he wasn't sure how involved he would want to be with a half-blood he couldn't control, but for one thing they would have to go through with the family photoshoot. Hermione scoffed at that, thinking he was joking, but no, he was dead serious. "I may not agree with all of my father's views but I care about my family's reputation. I'm going to help them- and so are you!"

"My child isn't going to be exploited by-"

" _Our_ child!" He roared, getting up close to her face.

" _Child_!" She screamed back at him. "That's the word we should be focussed on."

"It's not going to be hurt it's just a bloody photo. It'll get him off our backs."

She frowned, hating to admit that he made sense. "Fine. One photoshoot."

She felt drained from the argument, more than she ever used to. But that was who they were. They fought. It wasn't the ideal atmosphere for a child, but at least they would learn to stand up for themselves?

* * *

It's wasn't the only argument of the day. As she was packing up she felt a presence behind her. "I-" she turned around when he didn't continue, raising an eyebrow. "I think we should talk about that night." Her heartbeat immediately picked up, her mouth becoming dry as she sat down on her bed so that her shaky legs didn't collapse under themselves. "We can't just pretend that it never happened, nor should we." That was exactly what she'd been doing. Pretending that she hated him for the plethora of other reasons he'd given. But she didn't.

He remained in the doorway, a good few feet away, not averting his eyes but not forcing her to look at him either. "I want to. Pretend," she clarified. "But you're right. I don't think any child should grow up under such tension."

He nodded. "It's not an excuse, but I'm sure that you could tell that I was drunk and-"

Sudden rage burnt in the pit of her stomach and roared out of her in indignation. "Of course it's not! Being out of control doesn't mean you can stop being human!" He hung his head but she felt no pity for the useless creature he resembled, jumping to her feet and slamming her hands into him, pushing him back into the wall opposite her room as she screamed "WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?" Battering her fists against his chest, she heaved long panting breaths. "FIGHT! BACK!" He stumbled, but didn't move towards her despite not being immobilised like she'd been, so she let go, her hands hanging limply at her side, pain slowly beginning to bloom in them. Heat was building in her face too, so that she had to push her hair back from her face, not that it helped. The flames of her anger would not be extinguished so quickly.

"You're right," he said quietly. "I have a lot of issues. Too many to make you listen to me list them off." A short laugh broke free from her mouth. The statement was the truest she'd ever heard, and she knew about many of these issues already. He went into her room, provoking raised eyebrows again, until she realised he was getting her wand. That made her spring towards him, confused and panicked. But before she could ask what he was doing he handed it to her. "Hurt me. Go ahead." He said it with no fear, just dull acceptance. "Kill me, if you need to. I'm too damaged to be a good father. All I'm good for is protecting you and the baby from my father, but who am I kidding? Your Order friends can do that just as well as me."

"I'm not going to kill you," she said after a moment of silence. "Your life is worth more than just that."

"You shouldn't forgive me," he said determinedly.

She nodded. "I haven't. But I hope I will one day. It was wrong, and it was awful, and so were you," he nodded in agreement. "But people can change, and the most important thing is that you're a good father."

"I will never touch you again if that's what you want," he vowed.

"Let just see how things pan out," she replied. "But the first priority is this child. Always."

* * *

A couple of weeks after they returned to school they received the fantastic news that Fleur had had her baby! Right on time for her due date, she was born on the anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts so they named her Victoire. Things were so different than they had been a year ago. Better, of course, but weird, nonetheless. She remembered leaning on Harry and Ron afterwards and watching the Malfoys sitting silently together in the ensuing wreckage. She'd thought they were just feeling out of place in amongst those who had been their enemies the previous day, but now that she was one of them she thought that maybe there had just always been that uncomfortable dynamic between them. The thought made her pity them, she couldn't imagine growing up like that. Pitying the Malfoys! What a difference a year made.


	15. Chapter XIII

_**Chapter XIII:**_

With less than two months until Ginny's due date, Madam Pomfrey decided to shift the focus of BAM from parenting techniques back to the threat at hand for most of them- labour. She started with a lesson on the female biology that had Ron's face clashing with his hair while Harry and Blaise both went the colour of Peeves. Draco managed to maintain his composure, although he was pulling at his collar a little uncomfortably. The next lesson Padma asked how much pain labour would entail, she had a notepad and was making scrupulous notes. "Well, Miss Patel," the mediwitch said. "I won't lie to you. It will be agonising." Hermione raised her hand. "Yes Miss Granger?"

"What about epidural?" At the blank look on the matron's face she tried, "or any other type of pain medication?" Maybe wizards didn't have epidural yet. It was fairly new to muggle hospitals in the grand scheme of things.

"I'm afraid wizards don't use muggle medication during labour," Madam Pomfrey did genuinely sound apologetic, but Hermione wasn't having it.

"Oh no. I am having an epidural."

"No you're not," ordered Draco. "I'm not having some muggle medication killing my child!"

"It's my damn body!" She snapped. "If you want to swap places you can go medication free."

Everyone was glancing between them, the reality show back on after a period of relative peace in public. "We'll discuss this later," Draco said certainly.

She scoffed. "Keep telling yourself that."

"To return attention to the class," said Madam Pomfrey a little frostily. "The Ministry has provided a video of labour to prepare you." The sights seen in that caused Ron to pass out, and this time Draco was even more clearly flustered.

"Fine," he whispered, barely audible over the screams of 'I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU YOU!' On the video. "Take the medication."

* * *

Next up were breathing techniques, which the witches not getting any epidural would be needing a lot more than her. The boys had to sit behind them with their legs around them and hold onto them to give them support. It should have induced awkward laughter, and for a couple of people it did, but most of them were comfortable with each other by now. For Hermione, however, it was the first time Draco had touched her in such a way since January and it sent distressing shivers down her. He asked her if it was alright first but she still automatically shifted away as soon as his legs touched her, which seemed to hurt him only a little, the greater emotion was regret, paired with acceptance. She managed to accept his hands and legs on her, although that didn't stop her rapid heartbeat, then she felt a fluttering in her stomach. "Draco," she put her hands on his shocked ones and moved them onto her bump.

"Hermione, what are you-" he stopped as he felt it.

"Is that a kick?" The couples around them noticed what was going on and started cheering and clapping in a celebratory fashion. Her nerves banished in that moment, Hermione just grinned back at them, at him. "Our little Scorpius."

"Or Seraphina!" She reminded him.

He rolled his eyes. "Keep telling yourself that."

* * *

Things weren't all sunshine and rainbows. Draco had been receiving endless howlers from his father that were never explicit in why he was angry, probably to avoid shaming Lucius' personal or the Malfoy name amongst the others at the school or by telling their parents. She saw the letters land regularly at breakfast. Her husband tried to open them in the privacy of the common room to avoid the very same consequence, but sometimes he left them too long and they exploded in the Great Hall.

"Looks like Daddy's little angel's on thin ice for something," chuckled Ron.

"What do you think he did?" Joined in Harry. "Scratched off his Junior Death Eater mark? Spent his inheritance on a-"

"Stop it!" Hermione shouted. The Gryffindors around them, and a couple of others from nearby tables, looked over.

The boys both held up their hands. Exchanging a look like 'pregnant women, am I right?' She huffed, pulled Ginny up, linking arms and turning away.

They couldn't make a swift exit of course. Ginny was waddling even slower than her, clutching at her back. She said she was exhausted this trimester, with abdominal achiness and sometimes heartburn, but she was ecstatic that she wouldn't have to do her exams in this state. They were allowed to ask for special consideration and do them after they'd given birth but Hermione thought it might be even more difficult when there was a crying child demanding her attention so she'd prefer to get them done sooner rather than later.

* * *

Her first N.E.W.T was Transfiguration. It was a little unnerving to be sat in such a different alphabetical position in the hall than usual, surrounded by different people because of her new last name, but Hermione tried to block out her surroundings and focus on the paper. McGonagall stood at the head of the hall. "You may begin."

Immediately, Hermione flipped open to the front page and scanned question one. Okay... 'Which of the following spells is a human transfiguration? Cr-'

A stabbing in her groin tightened and she clutched at it, dropping her quill. What in Godric's name? She was over three months off her due date! Breathing, right, breathing. In, and out. Okay. 'Which of the following spells i-'

"Ow!" She shrieked as another one hit.

"Hermione?" Draco swivelled around in the chair in front of her and reached out to her.

"Mr and Mrs Malfoy!" McGonagall cried out, but when she saw Hermione's expression she helped her up, pushing Draco back down despite his protests and handing her off to Madam Pomfrey, here to watch in case something like this happened.

* * *

"Is it too early?" Asked Hermione anxiously once Madam Pomfrey had done some tests. "Am I losing the baby?"

"No," said the mediwitch shortly. "You're experiencing something that feels similar to what muggles call braxton hicks contractions in the sense that they feel real but are not. Your baby is going to be quite powerful, it's magic is already developing."

She glanced down at her stomach. So it was just magic? "Will this happen a lot?"

"It's usually intermittent," Madam Pomfrey said. "For a few weeks. It shouldn't really hurt." She was right. It didn't hurt too much, it had mainly just been the shock and panic.

"What's going on? Let me through!" Draco's voice ordered as he pushed past students and the matron herself.

"We're good," Hermione said with a smile. "Seraphina's just practising some wandless magic."

"Wandless magic?" He grinned. "Our kid's a super genius!" Then his face morphed into a frown. It was quite amusing to watch. "Seraphina? It's Scorpius, you demon woman!" As this pregnancy progressed she was getting a mother's intuition the child she would give birth to would become a confident, independent woman. Not that she'd love it any less if it was a mama's boy instead, but she wasn't so sure Draco should latch onto Scorpius just yet.


	16. Chapter XIV

_**Chapter XIV:**_

The last couple of days of term involved a lot of lounging around by the Black Lake with her friends and trying not to think about the future for a little while. There would be time enough for that. Ginny was ginormous by this point, and getting sassier by the day. Draco and his friends usually hung out on the other side of the Lake, but on the last full day of term Blaise landed beside his wife and slung an arm around her shoulder, which she promptly shrugged off and told him where to stick it for making her so fat and useless- she'd had to miss several Quidditch matches and was panicking about recruiters not seeing her skills. Daphne lay down on Harry's lap, still apparently thinking she was skinny rather than heavy and weighing him down, thankfully missing the distressed look he cast to his friends, but not the surprised "oof!" Draco positioned himself a respectable distance from her, closer in fact to Pansy, Goyle and Nott. Ron looked a little depressed not to have someone to cuddle up with, but that didn't stop him from joining in as the two opposing houses argued about who would win the House Cup. The beads in the hourglasses were so close it was impossible to tell: Gryffindor had won the Quidditch cup overall but Slytherin has bested them in the match against each other, and Draco hadn't shut up about it since! "With your biased headmaster gone there's no way you'll get it this time!" Challenged Nott.

"Gryffindor has always won fair and square!" An outraged Neville protested. Luna was inspecting his palm and her relaxation was quite a contrast to his sudden horror.

"Like that time Dumbledore gave you ten points for what, standing tall?" Pansy scoffed, her expressive eyes telling Neville what she thought of that truimph. "And it won the cup!"

Ginny was too tired to fight so she looked at her husband expectantly. Unfortunately for her, he just shrugged. "Sorry cara, she's right. If we'd gotten points for displaying the traits of our house in the minisculest of ways we'd have won for sure!"

"Well everyone knows McGonagall may have been a lion, but she plays fair," said Draco. He levelled her with a challenging look. "We'll see who's won soon enough."

* * *

At the End of Term Feast that night Harry and Ron should have been savouring the magical (in every sense of the word) food for the last dinner time, but they could barely eat anything. It was rather disconcerting. Honestly, it wasn't that big of a deal, who even-

Hermione completely lost her train of thought as McGonagall stood up and clinked her glass to call them to attention. She leaned forward on her elbows expectantly, not really listening to anything except "this year's winner is..." Peeves cane cackling through the hall mimicking a drumroll sound. "Gryffindor!" Hermione screamed indulgently, throwing herself into a group hug across the table with her friends, despite all the obstacles in their way digging into her currently rather plump body! She turned over her shoulder and arched an eyebrow and cocky smile at Draco rather than giving him the rather unladylike hand gesture she'd rather have done, but daren't, despite her days as role model for the younger students being practically over. She could hold out until they were alone in the common room.

* * *

At breakfast the next morning Harry and Ron's appetites were back in full force. Thank Godric. They certainly weren't the sneakiest- she caught them sneaking food into their bags for the train ride, or possibly to bring home and stare at like the masterpieces they were until they rotted. Her boys were lame like that- it was a reason she loved them. Hermione grinned at them lovingly, at everyone at every table, at the teachers, at the Slytherins even. She couldn't believe it was all over.

Her parents had arrived for graduation on the Hogwarts Express with the other muggle parents. The wizards were apparating to Hogsmeade and walking up to see their children become fully fledged adults. After she'd eaten breakfast and gotten changed into her dress robes and pointy wizard hat she lay down on the sofa with a big sigh. Her speech was perfect and memorised, her bags were packed, the common room ready for whoever would be Head Girl next year, but she didn't feel ready to go. "Need a hand up there, beachball belly?" She cast Draco a scathing look, but she did need one actually, so she reluctantly took his proffered hand. "Ready for the next chapter?"

"Not at all," she laughed nervously. "I'd stay here forever if I could. This is my home. When I was younger I always wanted to get out of school and grow up, but now that's the furthest thing down my wish list."

He gestured at her stomach. "The future's pushing forward, whether we want it to or not." He grabbed his own hat and swivelled it jauntily on his head like the graduation caps her muggle classmates would have worn when they graduated. "To be honest I'm so done with all this. I just want to start fresh." She bit her lip, knowing he wasn't only talking about school. "You don't have to say anything," he sighed. "It's fine." It clearly wasn't, but she couldn't say anything definitive yet. He would just have to accept that. She would be friendly with him of course, but she wasn't ready for anything more, for totally forgetting about it. Sometimes she could, other times it felt like all that hung between them.

* * *

After Draco's surprisingly personal Head Boy speech where he revealed that Hogwarts had always been his driving force, the place he'd wanted to come and the haven from his home, his father, who was a little late if he was there for appearances' sake, scowled at them both, and at his treacherous wife beside him as well. Lucius was sure Narcissa had helped them escape and was providing them with resources now. Which was true. But it didn't mean he should treat the mother of his child the way he did.

Draco came to sit down in a chair by the side of the raised platform the teacher's table was usually on whilst she stood up from beside him. The Grangers beamed up at her from the back of the room, the Malfoys glaring on the other side. There was so many students from lower years here to wave them off, the most famous year group Hogwarts had seen. In front of them her peers, not dressed in coloured ties but the same black robes. Harry and Ron each gave her a matching thumbs up. "This year was not what I expected in any manner at all. But I think that's rather fitting for a whole scholastic experience that hasn't been either. In First Year I prepared by thumbing endlessly through Hogwarts: A History, so I knew that the ceiling would be enchanted to reflect the weather outside, but I didn't expect to make two fantastic friends who I'd face a three headed dog with." Her audience laughed, and she smiled back, memories flooding over her. "In second year I was prepared for a new teacher whose favourite colour was lavender, but not to be petrified for my 'mudblood' status." The laughter trailed off, although she saw Lucius' smirk grow. "In third year I was allowed to use a time-turner to attend my ambitious number of classes, but I didn't suspect I'd use it to save a creature and a man both wrongly sentenced to death." His failure caused the blond man's expression to flip back again, quite hilariously. "Before fourth year I saw Viktor Krum play in the World Cup, but I didn't expect for him to show up at my school and fight against my best friend in a deadly tournament, or to ask me to the Yule Ball." She blushed a little. Ron had been so jealous then, now he just looked at her a little mournfully, but happy for her nonetheless. She didn't turn around to see Draco's reaction at the reminder. She would have been surprised. "As my O.W.L examination year, the fifth was always going to be hellish, but I couldn't foresee the loss of Sirius," Harry nodded to her sadly but thankfully for the tribute to his godfather. Daphne looked at him curiously, as if this was something they'd been discussing. "By my sixth the Ministry had acknowledged Voldemort's return." The mention of You-Know-Who by name had parents and students alike glancing at the Slytherins. "I thought we were in some way garnering support and trust. I didn't expect for our greatest supporter to be gone and our faces on wanted posters the next year." She focused on her two best friends now. They shared something deep and personal that would eternally connect them. It wasn't just that year on the run, but that had been a culmination of everything. "I spent what should have been my final year searching for and destroying slivers of Voldemort's soul rather than taking my N.E.W.T's or patrolling the corridors as Head Girl. The end of the year should have been a celebration but instead it was a mass funeral. When I finally got around to my seventh year it started with a test not about knowledge but to determine my husband. The result was entirely unexpected, the experience difficult, but my time at Hogwarts has been more formative than I could ever have imagined. More happy, more sad, more learnt, more experience than seems possible. It's only seven years. I suppose it's not a long time for someone who's lived a long life. But it's been jam-packed with two hundred times more than I experienced before hand and, I suspect, will experience afterwards. I'll always remember this as the best time of my life. It's the struggles in between that made all the good parts that much sweeter." The crowd leapt to their feet, cheering. Only Lucius didn't, and he could stick it. Even his wife was applauding in an uncharacteristicly unabashed way. His laser eyes were telling her to sit down, but she ignored them, maybe she didn't even notice them.

When she went to sit down beside Draco he was grinning as well, shaking his head in surprise and amusement. "Maybe you should consider a career in politics, Madam Minister in waiting."

She folded her arms over her chest and thought about that. "Maybe I should."

* * *

The ceremony of riding boats the reverse way they'd come across the Lake than when they'd arrived was so beautifully symbolic Hermione's eyes began to leak. She wasn't the only one. Hagrid had joined them on their little boat as he had when they were eleven. He was sobbing, and he wasn't even pregnant! "I don't know what I'm gon'ter do without you lot 'ere!" He lamented. "I can't remember such a time!" They engulfed him in a group hug and just stayed there for a moment so that by the time they reached the other end they were the last ones over. Ginny was waiting, rather impatiently, as she called out to them to stop being whiney babies, but she was smiling pretty good-naturedly- until she yelled "bloody hell!"

Ron leapt out of the boat and over to his sister. "What is it Gin? Merlin's beard, is it birth? Oh my Godric I am not ready for that bloody video to become reality-"

"Shut up Ronald!" Hermione slapped him around the head. "Obviously she's in labour!" She pointed down to the pool of water below Ginny. Ron looked like he was about to throw up.

"Go make yourself useful and get that useless gi- ow!" Ginny clutched her stomach as another contraction hit. "That useless git Zabini. He's probably playing exploding snap or eating a chocolate frog without a care in the whole fucking world!" She said angrily. Harry decided to accompany the ginger rather than stay with his extremely emotional ex. Meanwhile, Hermione told Ginny she was going to levitate them back to the hospital wing. Hopefully Madam Pomfrey hadn't left for the summer holidays yet. "Bloody anti-apparition charms," Ginny cursed, and then used some rather more choice words to add to her flavourful description of the charms to protect them.

By the time they reached the Hospital Ward Hermione had learnt some new words and earned a new appreciation for Ginny's vocabulary. The matron was wearing a floral print summer dress rather than her usual medical uniform and dragging a suitcase, but when she saw the two pregnant girls she dropped her holiday gear with a groan and directed them to a bed. It was clear Ginny had been experiencing contractions for quite some time as they were now very close together. Apparently she hadn't wanted to ruin their graduation, and hadn't been sure if they were the same fake thing Hermione had been experiencing either. The brunette hugged her friend for that sweetness, Ginny's response being quite a lot tighter than her own embrace. When the ginger finally released her Madam Pomfrey instructed her to use those breathing techniques they'd practised. "In... and out." Ginny did so, not without a few interjections of her own.

"What in Godric's name is keeping that good for nothing Italian?"

"I'm here bella!" Prementioned good-for-nothing-Italian called out after one such outburst.

Ginny threw her head back against the pillow in a frenzied cackle. "For the end, of course! _I_ do all the hard work!"

"I think it was somewhat a team effort", an affronted Blaise observed.

Ginny glared at him. "I'm never banging you again shithead."

He rolled his eyes. "Of course not."

"Have you found Molly, Arthur and Mrs Zabini yet?" Hermione asked Ron. This time he bopped _himself_ on the head, then grabbed Harry's arm and hurried away, his voice fading as he berated himself. "Stupid! Mum's gonna kill me if the baby's born before she..."

Ginny was still gripping her hand on one side and Blaise's in the other when Madam Pomfrey told her to push. "I'M USING THAT EPIPEN NEXT TIME!" She screamed. Hermione didn't bother to correct her. It didn't seem like the smartest thing to do at this moment in time.

Blaise grinned. "I knew there'd be a next time!"

"STAI ZITTO, TESTA DE CAZZO ARROGANTE!"

"So my Italian lessons _did_ pay off," Blaise wiggled his eyebrows.

"ARGH!" A frustrated Ginny pushed hard and out came a shrieking babe. The three of them beamed, all earlier insults forgotten.

"It's a boy!" said Madam Pomfrey. She was relieved, just like they were, excited to get away at last probably, but also looking genuinely happy for the couple.

"Oh Ginny!" Molly called out from the doorway, racing towards her daughter. "He's so handsome!"

"Isn't he just?" Mrs Zabini was right behind her.

Hermione stood up to leave, feeling a little out of place, but Ginny reached the hand that wasn't cradling her son out to grab her hand again. "Hermione, will you be Luca's godmother?"

She turned back, surprised and honoured. "Wow, Ginny, are you sure?"

The ginger nodded joyfully, looking down at her son. "I wouldn't trust anyone else with him." Ron, returned, gasped. "Oh shut it!" She scoffed. "Two is more than enough for you to handle." Madam Pomfrey had been suspicious about how quickly Sally-Anne's stomach was growing and had found out that she was pregnant with twins. "Besides, it means that Blaise's best friend can be godfather as well."

"Come on in mate!" The Italian called out. "I know you're hanging around here somewhere!" Slowly, Draco poked his head around the door, looking unsure why he was there. Hermione was as well. She was sure he would have left on the train.

"I saw you heading back up to the castle," he said in a low tone as the others began to chatter around the baby, all begging to hold him.

"You were waiting for me?"

He shrugged. "Alright, time for the godparents to hold him now!" Ginny declared. Blaise handed Luca over to his best friend, who looked a little less confident now that it was a real baby he was holding rather than a doll. She felt selfishly glad for a moment, then she began to find his expression sweet. He was going to be a great father, whether he was confident holding the child or not.


	17. Chapter XV

_**C** **hapter XV:**_

They flooed back to the house in Cornwall from Hogsmeade, he didn't say so but she had a feeling Draco thought his father would be lying in wait at King's Cross. Besides, the train had already left a few hours ago. The others were apparating, or if they couldn't, grabbing onto someone who could. Hermione pitied Ginny. She'd just given birth but she hadn't escaped the nausea of side-along. The Gryffindors all hugged for so long that Draco started tapping his foot impatiently, having said goodbye to Blaise and Daphne rather swiftly. She just ignored him. "Promise to stay in regular contact?" Harry asked her, casting a still suspicious eye at her husband. She nodded and embraced him once more before backing up and tossing some powder into the flames before she could stop herself from clinging onto one of them and the warm familiarity of the Burrow. She took a long exhale when she arrived in Cornwall though, realising how wonderfully familiar this place also felt, despite having lived in it for less than a week. It had become her home immediately. "You hungry after what I'm sure was a workout of the Weaselette's emotion?" She was starving actually. The last thing she'd eaten was breakfast and it was now almost eight in the evening. She should have had lunch on the train, but adrenaline had kept her going through the birth and then the goodbye. "My mother said she magically transferred a load of supplies from their kitchen to ours."

"I bet your father was pleased about that," she said, speed-walking towards the kitchen. She was so not in the mood to cook- ooh! They could get takeaway! It would be a fascinating new experience for Draco. Surely there was some sort of muggle civilisation nearby and where there were Britons there were Indian restaurants and kebabs.

"I'm sure he wrote out the shopping list," Draco scoffed. He pulled open the door and gestured her through, so she waddled in- only to be assaulted upon arrival by a tiny excited house elf.

"YAY! THE NEW MASTER AND MISTRESS IS HERE!" The elf leapt up and down in excitement, as Hermione stumbled back into Draco's chest in shock. "Winky has been waiting and waiting for days now! Winky has cleaned and polished and cleaned and cooked! Oh! Dinner is ready!" She took Hermione's hand and led her into the dining room. Having recovered, the bushy haired witch sent an amused look back at her husband.

"That sounds fantastic Winky. Nice to meet you." She was momentarily distracted by the spread at the table. Finally she understood how her friends felt about food. She wanted to ravage this table of beef and perfectly roasted potatoes and vegetables and Yorkshire puddings and, oh Godric, that gravy smelt phenomenal!

"Winky made rhubarb crumble with custard for afters!" The elf said proudly. Hermione wanted to kiss her.

"I love you Winky!"

Draco laughed. "I should take more of those cooking classes, if that's all it takes!" It might have been a little awkward in another circumstance, but her stomach was growling and her baby was kicking as if to say 'feed me right now Mum!' She scoffed down three times the amount her husband ate, plus a good half a dozen of the chocolate truffles Winky offered when they'd finished eating. Draco gave her an impressed look. This time she did flip him a backwards V. He raised his hands in surrender. "I like this new side of you!"

"Don't expect it to last. I think I've got a little foodie in here." She rubbed her stomach, which was still now that the baby was satisfied.

He grinned. "Great! I'll take him to Tokyo for unagi eel, then Bologna for spaghetti, Lyon for cervelle de canut, New Orleans for gumbo and beignets, San Sebastián for pinxtos..."

She rested a hand under her chin, her mouth watering. "You're making me hungry again."

He smirked. "Don't worry. You're invited on these trips too."

"The most genuinely multicultural I've been is eating haggis in Scotland."

"You've got a lot to catch up on then." They just looked at each other in silence for a moment, letting all the possibility of a future wash over them. She wondered what their relationship would be in a year, five, ten? Whether they stayed together or split up, as they'd originally planned, this child meant they would always be in each others' lives. That thought was a lot less unpleasant than it used to be.

* * *

The arrival of a howler was an eerie burst to their bubble letting them know Lucius could reach them. Draco stood up to go read it outside but she reached across the table and tugged him back down. "You can do it here. You don't have to hide from me."

His lip quirked upward in a somber smile and he tore the envelope open as if he were ripping off a plaster. "YOU WEAK IMBICILE, THINKING YOU CAN MAKE AN ESCAPE SO EASILY WITHOUT SPEAKING TO ME! YOUR MOTHER WON'T TELL ME WHERE YOU ARE BUT WITHOUT ME YOUR REACH IS LIMITED. I AM GOING TO HUNT YOU AND THAT MUDBLOOD BITCH DOWN AND CUT THE HALF-BREED OUT OF HER STOMACH BEFORE IT EVEN GETS A CHANCE TO TAKE ONE SOLITARY BREATH UNLESS YOU COMPLY WITH MY DEMANDS!" Hermione took a wretched, sobbing gasp, cradling her stomach.

"I won't let him touch you Hermione," Draco swore, his face so full of disgust and fury- but underlying that, always underlying that, fear. "We won't let him touch our baby... But he's got so much power. So much reach."

"What are his demands?" She asked, knowing he was right. They would have to appease Lucius if they wanted to live in this heaven away from his complete control over their lives. "Apart from the stupid front page spread."

Draco ran a hand through his hair tiredly. "He wants to see the baby once a month."

"No," she snapped without thinking about it.

"I don't want it either-"

"He could- he will hurt them, like he hurt me, like he hurt you. He'll try to inundate them to his racist way of thinking."

"We'll turn his rule about supervised visits for your parents back on him in return." That was quite a good idea. Obviously she'd rather Lucius never come into contact with her child at all, but this meant they could at least monitor his influence. At her agreement Draco scribbled a response. "The next thing was our guarantee to be at all his social functions and socialise with him and his friends and enemies." Again, she wasn't particularly enthusiastic about the prospect of networking to advance Lucius' reputation and perpetuate the falsehood that he was accepting of 'her kind', but she could make the best of it. Maybe Harry and Ginny would be at these things like they had been at Christmas. "He still wants to send us a list of names."

"That I'm not doing," she said definitively. "We can't compromise on something so important."

Draco nodded. "Alright. If he's the reasonable, albeit ruthless, businessman I know him to be, hopefully he'll be willing to negotiate." He looped his signature at the bottom of the page, attached the letter to an owl and sent it off.

* * *

They didn't even have to wait twenty four hours for the reply. It turned out Lucius was willing to negotiate, sort of. He wasn't giving up on some control of the name, and if he couldn't give options for the more important and identifiable first name then he was only giving one for the less significant middle. Any guesses?


	18. Flashforward III

**_Flashforward III:_**

The sky was rapidly becoming ominous, but Molly Weasley was not going to let her first grandchild's first birthday be ruined by a little rain. She'd cast a charm above them to ensure they would only experience sunny skies. Not that they could hear the thunder over the raucous laughter and chatter anyway! Bill mushed up his daughter's first taste of cake and they all cooed in wonder as she clapped her hands, taking it off his plate and spreading it all over his face! His younger daughter let out an affronted whine that she wasn't allowed the sweet treat too, but even at 2 months old Dom wasn't one to moan and she quietened pretty quickly. Hermione had no such luck with her own darling daughter. Sera fussed and screamed and thrashed until Draco picked her up and hummed the ballad that always calmed her down. She didn't have the energy to be jealous these days, just grateful.

Her mum approached only once the baby was quiet to tickle and play with her, pulling a rather stiff looking Narcissa along, clearly distraught to be surrounded by so many undesirables. There was something endearing about it though, and Molly wasn't one to give up easily so she of course came over to engage the blonde woman in conversation. Relaxing without the weight of a child in her arms, Hermione watched Harry and Lupin discussing their boys, and her best friend's godson crawl away from his mother to reach out to Victoire, who turned her curious aqua blue eyes down and tickled his hand with the little fingers of her own. "We'll have to watch out for those two!" Said George jovially and they all chuckled good-naturedly, not yet imagining that it was possible for these innocents to ever grow up, no matter how fast the days turned into months.

Probably whispering about how they only had to stay for another twenty minutes, Percy was leaning into the ear of the Ministry wife he'd married as a sacrifice for his prized government. Meanwhile, Arthur had been under the tutelage of her Dad in learning how to burn everything on the barbeque, but he appeared to have gained a baby whilst her father was trying to suggest he finished the burgers and chicken off himself to prevent any third degree burns. Hermione looked around for Luca's sex-crazed parents and rolled her eyes when she saw their figures flit past the window indoors on the way up to the bedroom. Sally-Anne was deep in conversation with Daphne, the one of them she seemed best able to tolerate. Unfortunately the feeling wasn't reciprocal. The blonde looked just as sleepy as the baby she was holding, whilst the Gryffindor balanced her twins, reluctant to hand one off to the ginger standing beside her. When he finally had acquired one, Ron came over and slumped down beside Hermione with an exaggerated sigh and a wipe of the brow. "Everything's a workout with that woman," he cursed.

She shook her head hopelessly. "It does feel like she's not even willing to try." She took Hugo's tiny hands and looked into his perpetually surprised blue eyes. "Your mummy's a bit of a grudge-bearer, isn't she honey? _Isn't she?_ " It was unfortunate, because she genuinely thought that their personalities could mesh quite well if Sally-Anne ever gave her husband a chance, but it was clear she was still upset about their first meeting and was just holding on until the necessary five years had elapsed and she could file for divorce. She felt bad for Ron who, although sometimes clueless, had never meant to offend her. It would be difficult for him to find another wife, which she knew he would want. They were all paired up, and most people seemed surprisingly content with their partners. He would have to look to those older than them, or abroad.

Harry landed on her other side, throwing an arm around her and grinning lazily. "Edward Remus Lupin is the smoothest toddler I've ever met! My other godson's not such a ladies man is he?"

"Not yet!" Declared Ron. It was apparent that he had high hopes for his progeny. The three of them sighed in the type of companionable silence that can only be enjoyed with true friends. Someone tapped her on the shoulder. She turned around to see her husband scowling intrinsically. He still despised being in the same air space as her friends. It made her reluctant to admit that she didn't feel the same way about most of his anymore.

"We need to get back home," he snapped.

A little confused, she gave him a look. She knew this wasn't his number one place to be, but she'd thought it wasn't going to be too painful for him. "Come on Drake!" Teased Ron, knowing how little the Slytherin liked her lionly best friends. "Stick around!"

He ignored them, which let her know that something was wrong. Draco always rose to spar. "Our wards have been breached." She instantly bolted upright from her lounged position. _Lucius._ Her daughter was here, but he didn't know that. He'd probably worked out that Narcissa was going out with them and assumed they'd leave Sera with Blinky like he'd probably done constantly with his own son's nanny or the house elves. She saw red. How dare he try to harm her daughter! They'd done him better than he deserved by even consenting to a damned photoshoot. No longer. Leaving Sera with Grandma Narcissa, oh how much difference a year could make, she apparated back to Cornwall, Draco just behind her. They spun around, back to back, with their wands outstretched, ready for an attack from any angle. It was surprisingly quiet; no crashing around as Lucius gleefully destroyed the house polluted with 'inadequate' blood. Draco nodded down to the kitchen and she nodded back. Best to start at the bottom and work their way up. Besides, they had to make sure Blinky was okay. Once they were outside the door it was clear some kind of confrontation was going on in there, so Hermione burst in to protect the elf she'd loved on sight. But Lucius wasn't the intruder in their house. Distraught shrieks abounded as another house elf hid himself behind the counter and Blinky rushed forward with a horrified expression. "Oh no! Master, mistress- Blinky is so sorry. Blinky is the baddest elf!" She started to whack herself hard on the head over and over again. Hermione rushed forwards to stop her. "But mistress!" She cried out, still trying to hurt herself, despite Hermione's best attempts. "Blinky has breeded without her masters' permission! Blinky has put her wants before her masters!" The little elf started to cry, tears pouring down her cheeks, and Hermione bent down to her level and said sternly,

"Blinky. Stop crying." Abruptly, the elf who always followed orders obeyed. "You are an invaluable help and member of our family, but you are allowed to have fun too! Everyone should be!"

"As long as we're not going to be expecting any elf babies anytime soon," interjected Draco.

"He's joking," she mandated, and so his words became a joke.

"Oh if Blinky had any babies she would throw them out to look after Little Miss Sera!" The elf proclaimed passionately, and even Draco looked against that.

"No! No! No!" Hermione exclaimed. "If you have any children, you can raise them here, in fact, I'm sure Sera would be delighted with cute baby house elves to play with!" She glanced at Blinky's companion in the corner. "Are you going to introduce us to your lovely choice?"

The other elf waddled forwards and took Blinky's hand. They looked absolutely adorable! "Quelcher, ma'am," he said nervously. "Quelcher worked at Malfoy Manor with Blinky. Quelcher loves Blinky very much."

She smiled happily at the beautiful nature of love. "Maybe we could talk to Narcissa and get her to transfer you here, Quelcher."

"My father will be furious," Draco warned. "He didn't know who Blinky was, but when he found out an elf was gone he was livid."

"Even more of a reason to do it," she chuckled mischievously, missing the way his eyes lit up as he saw a more Slytherin side of her.

* * *

The two of them burst out laughing as soon as they left the kitchen. "Elves can override wizard enchantments," she said, remembering their O.W.L question on the very subject. "Maybe we need to adjust the warning system in case Blinky wants to bring any more friends home."

Draco chuckled. "So everyone deserves fun, eh?" He asked, in a slightly more serious tone.

She surveyed him. "Yeah. Even us." He looked at her confusedly and she took a deep breath. She'd gotten to know him so utterly in the year and a half since the incident that she felt like they were both too completely differently people. "I'm ready to give you another chance." His eyes widened to quaffle size.

"Hermione," he said softly. "You don't have to do that. Ever. We already have a child. Your obligation is fulfilled. We can get divorced after five years." She could plainly read his disappointment even as he said it.

"It's not a need. Like Blinky said, it's a want." She bit her lip anxiously, but she definitely wanted to do this. "I'm not saying it's going to be easy or magical, or that this is going to be a repeated thing. But just for today, I want us to get another try."

He swept her up into a bridal carry that made her shriek in first fear, then shock, then amusement as she realised he wasn't trying to hurt her. "What are you doing you silly oaf!"

He made his way over to the stairs, looking into her eyes the whole time. "Treating you like a princess, how I should have treated you from the start. I was such a stupid, arrogant dick, only worried about what my father thought- when you're my wife! You should be the one I was worried about, not hurting. I don't deserve another chance," they'd reached the top of the stairs and he turned to his room, kicking open the door gently. "But you're the most wonderful, forgiving soul in the wizar-in the whole world for giving me one, and I swear I'll try not to waste it." He placed her down on the bed like she was a dainty piece of china and got to his knees in front of her, sprinkling every part of her with humble apologetic kisses from the bottom up, removing any piece of clothing in the way as he went. When he got to her ear he whispered, "If at any point anything gets too much, tell me to stop and I'll listen." Ridiculous as it was, she almost felt like crying from how wonderful he was being. They'd had sex on both ends of the scale: passionate and emotionless; but it had always been attraction based. They'd never had this emotional connection. This was going to be different. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him on the lips, slowly pulling him back on top of her so he was on the bed too. His clothed skin kept brushing against her naked though, and she didn't like that. Taking her time, letting herself go at her own pace to stop from getting worked up, she stripped him down until they were both level. "I..." he was looking into her amber eyes, rather than at her body. "I love you Hermione." A tear did escape now. She knew how difficult that was for him to say. How different a meaning love had had in his house. "Damn it," he cursed. "Too far?" She shook her head, wiping away the tear and pulling him back down.

"Perfectly far."


	19. Chapter XVI

_**Chapter XVI:**_

Lucius seemed satisfied by their compromises. He left the couple alone whilst they settled into their new home.

A couple of weeks into the holidays they held a housewarming. Blaise and Ginny came over with their new arrival, who Hermione took great pleasure in holding; as well as Neville and Luna, Pansy with her Hufflepuff husband, Nott and Goyle with their wives. Ron arrived with Harry and a ready-to-pop Daphne; Sally-Anne had been invited as well but she'd sent a polite message back that she didn't want to give birth there as she was just as far along as the blonde Slytherin. Her husband had tried to convince her it would be fun and that he could get her to St Mungo's just as quickly from there as from home, but apparently she preferred playing solitaire in confinement like a Tudor woman anyways. The appetisers Winky and Hermione had made was all that had been served when Daphne lifted up her maxi dress and peered down at the perfectly polished floor beneath her. As refined as ever, the blonde observed "I think I'm in labour." In contrast, Harry was not refined. He immediately began to jump around like a spooked puppy, pushing his sweaty hair off his face as his panic mounted exponentially to Daphne's calm. She and Ginny traded symptoms, and once they'd decided that Daphne was in fact in labour but like many women hadn't experienced her water breaking, they all apparated to the hospital. This time they were fully out of the room. Draco had already attended one of these things and he was ridiculously bored, kicking his chair in the waiting room like a rampaging toddler. Harry emerged from his wife's private room a couple of times for Hermione to comfort him, but she needed more to do than that afforded. At one point, she tried to ask Ron if he wanted to come for a walk, but he was adamant that if they weren't going to the cafe then he wasn't in. Rolling her eyes, Hermione walked away from all the restless boys. She hated the smell of hospitals, even magical ones. So stifling. She wanted to get out into the communal garden, but before she reached the door she was pulled into a cupboard, trying to shriek but her mouth was covered, her wand left on her bedroom hundreds of miles away. "I've cast a silencing charm on this area," hissed her husband's father. "Are you ready to listen to your superior, girl?"

When he removed his hand she wanted to fight, but she knew he had the upper hand. She wasn't skilled at many non-verbals that would be relevant against the older wizard, and he was probably physically stronger than her, certainly much taller. "Fine," she tried to draw her 5 feet 5 inches up as tall as possible, hiding her fear with exaggerated confidence. "Make it quick, Ferret Senior. I don't know what else you could have to say to either of-"

He didn't wait for her to finish her sentence, deliberately interrupting her with an aggressive backhand across the face that hurt more than it should have. He was wearing a sharp serpentine ring, she realised. "You are not even worth the filth I tread underfoot." His spit landed on her face and she raised a hand reflexively to wipe it off, but he pinned it to her side. She could feel her confident face trembling, tears were prickling her eyes, but she blinked them back again and again. She was not going to do this here. Not in front of him. "I sent Draco my censored list of demands, but there's a couple more things I need specifically from you." She couldn't look away from his steely eyes even if she wanted to. And she didn't. No weakness. "If this child is a boy it will become the heir to my fortune and my name. No-one wants that, do they?"

"I can't control the gender of my baby," her voice was hoarser than she would have liked.

"No," he admitted, disappointed. "But I at least want to make sure this child is raised... correctly." She did not like the sound of that coming from his mouth. "My son would find it strange if you suddenly flipped on your choice and allowed me to visit more often to discipline my grandson, but I don't have to be the one to do it, I suppose."

She bristled, anger taking over fear. "You want me to hurt my baby?"

"Discipline." He corrected. "I'll give you more information on how I wish you to act as the child ages. You should start with the Spartan treatment. Leaving the baby to cry in the dark," the thought upset her even now when her child hadn't been born. "You will not feed the brat consistently when it whines, only as a reward for good behaviour to teach it how to act."

"Them," she muttered the correction. She wasn't going to treat her child like a ward of the state, a soldier, least of all when he was only a pink faced, crying newborn.

Lucius sneered. "If you fail to do as I request, I will see to it that a more suitable guardian is chosen who will raise this child correctly." Meaning him. How had he known they were here? Some kind of tracking, maybe through a letter he'd sent? He had unspeakable power over them. "See you soon, daughter." He apparated from the cupboard, leaving her alone and shaken. She reached to her cheek and realised she'd already started crying. It was probably why he had looked so smug.

* * *

After James Sirius Potter was born and Ron and Daphne's sister Astoria were revealed to be the godparents, an exhausted Hermione readily agreed to Draco's previously incessant requests to go home. Winky was nowhere to be seen, probably collapsed somewhere from the exhaustion of cooking a lot of party food that never got eaten, so the house was silent when they arrived. Draco poured out two glasses from the decanter and handed her one. The two of them sat down in the sitting room, each taking a sip in silence before he said, "so I was thinking, everyone's making a big deal out of this whole godparents thing, but we haven't considered anyone for ours yet."

She looked at him blankly, still shaken up from her earlier encounter. "I want Harry and Ginny."

Draco made a face mimicking vomiting. Usually she would have rolled her eyes. "Weaselette and Scarface? Do you not remember their epically public break up? Besides, they'd indoctrinate my son with dreams of being a prissy little dreamer."

"It's not an issue," she said.

He raised an eyebrow. "It sort of is. I want someone perfect to raise the kid if we die and we can't."

"We're not going to die!" She yelled at him, her hands fisting.

"You're forgetting the world we live in," he reminded her. "So many people have died the government had to introduce a law to force people together."

"But the danger's over now."

"You know as well as I do that that is a delusion." She bit her lip. Of course she did. But she was terrified. She had to deny the fear she felt to him and to herself. "How about a compromise?" Draco relented. "Weaselette and Blaise. One of your friends and one of mine. Since they're a couple it will be more practical if they needed to look after Scorpius."

She had a feeling that if they did both pass away in mysterious circumstances, no matter what their choice was it might not be the guardian their child ended up with, but she humoured him and agreed. After all, they were the godparents to Blaise and Ginny's child.


	20. Chapter XVII

**_Chapter XVII:_**

Maybe she shouldn't be worried about her baby, they were certainly a fighter, kicking away and releasing magic to batter her stomach! The misogynistic ferret was adamant that this only confirmed that he was going to have a strapping, bulstruous boy. Personally she knew a lot of strong women, but she let him indulge himself whilst she panicked about her father in law. The fact that she hadn't heard anything from him made his shadowy omniscient presence all the more sinister. At least, she hadn't heard anything until one morning at breakfast an unidentifiable grey owl swooped down to deliver a letter. It wasn't the usual majestic creature, so she ripped it open just like she had the one from the Ministry before it. This letter didn't bring such good news though.

 _My dear daughter in law,_

 _I write to ensure you are keeping our discussion private. My son has become a rather more rash and emotional man since he married you and I feel that if he knew he wouldn't understand my necessity in the way that you do. We understand each other well, don't we Hermione? I always knew you were intelligent, in fact it outraged me that my pure-blood son could not beat your surely inferior knowledge, but now I see how that brain of yours can be a benefit to me. I hope my grandson inherits your intelligence, dear. We know Malfoy physical features will be dominant, naturally. Thank Salazar. I shall be in contact again soon._

 _Lucius Malfoy_

He might as well have signed off with HRH. She folded the parchment with a sharp crease. "What's that?" Asked Draco, curious at her response.

She glanced at the other letter on the table. "The Ministry offered Ron, Harry and I auror jobs right after the war. We all decided to go back to school instead, although they took some convincing, and I said I didn't think it was for me anyway. They've offered me a job in the Department for the Regulation of Magical Creatures.

He chuckled. "Perfect for you, Miss S.P.E.W." She was always surprised by how much he seemed to know about her for the limited exchanges they'd shared. "Seriously, congratulations."

"How about you? Do you have any career prospects, or will you subvert stereotypes by making our relationship even stranger to the public and being a stay-at-home-Dad?" She joked, but she was mentally crossing her fingers. She might not love Malfoy but it was clear that he would love this baby and if she had to be the abusive parent she wanted it to have one that would give it unconditional love.

"Well I always assumed I would be independently wealthy, but I'm not sure my father's fortune will be a reliable source of income after my insubordination."

She shook her head. "He won't deny it to you. That wouldn't fit his whole 'family first' aesthetic." He seemed almost disappointed, difficult as it was to imagine him working rather than lounging about in a manor. "But I mean, don't let me be the one to stop you from getting a 9 to 5. What would you do?"

He shrugged. "I love Quidditch, but we have a family to support so I'm not just going to go off travelling around the world and leave you here." She smiled faintly, a warm embrace lessening the chill that had crept into her bones.

"You've always been fantastic at potions," he smirked cockily and she rolled her eyes. No matter how much she might pretend these moments frustrated her, they really were a security blanket, dragging her back to the old days when lines weren't so blurred between friend, foe and fuckbuddy.

"What can I do with that? Apart from teaching snotty First Years?"

"I thought you loved children!"

"Young ones," he laughed. "Not pre-pubescent know-it-all twats."

"Like I was?"

"Exactly."

She threw the cushion from her seat at him, but then she had to snatch it back because she was finding these wooden chairs exceedingly uncomfortable in her current state. Unfortunately she forgot that she was still holding the letter in the hand that she reached out, and he dropped the cushion into her hand whilst grabbing it from her. She didn't have her wand, but she desperately tried a wandless incantation anyway, crying out "incendio" in the direction of the paper.

Shouting out "what the fuck!", Draco dropped it and cast an extinguishing charm, but it was too scorched to read. He looked at her expectantly and she pushed the other letter towards him.

"I _did_ get the job."

"Great." He deadpanned. "But what was the one you lit aflame?"

She swallowed hard and then bit out, "I don't have to tell you anything. What are you, the Gestapo? Anyway, I thought Slytherins were supposed to be sly, that was the most transparent machination I've ever seen!"

"Gelato has no relevance here Hermione!" He exclaimed. "And for your information, I did have a better plan but I used my slyness and adaptability to change it when I was presented with a more immediate opportunity." He slammed a fist down on the table. "Stop trying to distract me! What was in that damn letter?" She shook her head. "Tell me!"

His voice raised considerably and she shrunk back with a visible shiver. He let out a frustrated hiss through his teeth but pushed back his chair and stormed off, leaving her sitting there with a distinct feeling of shame and his lingering disappointment that she hadn't trusted him. But his feelings didn't matter right now, what was important was that their child could grow up as safely as possible. At first it seemed like a huge oversight on Lucius' part to have sent a letter that didn't disappear or was only visible to her, then she realised that, of course, it was all built to torture her more. So she had to work harder to hide this from him, from everyone. She couldn't tell Draco. He would go all 'white knight' and attack his father, and that couldn't end well. Lucius would kill him, or her, or both. She couldn't deprive the baby of him, she didn't want to deprive herself either, deep down. "It's going to be okay," she whispered under her breath to her stomach. Somehow.

* * *

After Ron's face appeared in the fireplace, Hermione told him she'd be right over. She should tell Draco though, right? Maybe she should just leave a note? Too late. She was already peeking around the door to the nursery to find him magically assembling furniture. He'd only started an hour or so ago but the room looked so much more complete. It made her heart skip realising that it was ready and waiting for its occupant to arrive. She cleared her throat. "I'm going to Ron's cottage. They just had the baby."

"I'll come." Her eyebrows furrowed. It had been a couple of days since The Big Blowout and they hadn't really spoken; the manor was big enough to accommodate this. All they'd exchanged were a few jilted pleasantries at dinner, other meals they'd been eating separately. Winky was quite concerned. "I want to get out of the house," he explained, so she acquiesced and headed back downstairs. Her speed was really rather hindered now, and she could feel him a few feet behind her in a way that set the hairs on her neck on end. Why couldn't he just walk beside her? Why couldn't he just forget about the letter?

They eventually reached the fireplace and Hermione took a handful of powder, threw it in and said clearly, "Primrose Cottage!"

The name might sound peaceful but the reality certainly wasn't. Weasley family members, including Harry and Daphne of course, buzzed around the tiny home as her husband turned to his fellow Slytherin for some comfort. "My claustrophobia acts up in small houses." Hermione rolled her eyes and set off to find Ron, stopping on the way to tickle James, Luca and Victoire. She'd just spotted her anxious but excited looking friend when Molly took her arm firmly but with a familiar motherly beam. "Hello Hermione, how are you?"

"I'm fine," she smiled back. "Excited to see the babies."

"Oh yes," Molly clucked. "That Sally-Anne is a character. But is everything alright in your marriage?"

Hermione paused, her nerves building, but there was no suspicion in the matriarch's eyes, only concern. She knew nothing. "Yes, of course."

Molly didn't look so sure. "Usually pregnant women have a little more glow, and though I can see that, there does seem to be something niggling at you."

"Nothing important," The assertion of the lie may not have been fully convincing, but it did enough for Molly to move on, slightly.

"Good. I worry, dear, you know. We all thought you would end up with Ron in the end. I know the young Malfoy may have switched sides but I'm sure he's not who you would have chosen, and my boy's partner doesn't seem to like the term."

"Ronald and I may have gotten together in another life Mrs Weasley," Hermione said decidedly. "But we have this one. And I'm just happy to have him as my best friend." The older woman embraced her a little forlornly and then sent her in her son's direction, as he juggled two ginger babies between all the adults clamouring to hold them. When he saw her he beamed and called out,

"Mione! Come meet Hugo and Rosie." H and R, Hermione and Ron? A coincidence? Was he over her? She wasn't sure, but she knew her feelings for him had melted back to friendship. That time was passed. Draco glanced over at them curiously from where he appeared to be interrogating Harry, probably about the stupid letter. Fantastic.


	21. Chapter XVIII

**_Chapter XVIII:_**

When they got back from the familiar chaos of the Weasleys, which Sally-Anne had escaped in sleep, for the first time the house didn't seem entirely homey. Of course, it was much better than the macabre Malfoy Manor, but the shadows overhanging them and the void between them had her longing for the security of a bustling hoard rather than a silent solitary companion. She turned to Draco to apologise for hiding things from him, at the same time as he murmured, "I'm sorry, alright?" She shut the gormless mouth hanging open mid-word and collapsed into a chair, exhausted from the day. "I shouldn't have been so nosey. I don't know why I'd expect you to trust me after what I've done to you."

"I-" she couldn't quite say what she wanted to. "I don't _not_ trust you."

He guffawed but his eyes were sad. "Well, that's a start, I suppose."

She wished she could say how much she wanted to tell him the truth. Instead she just thanked him for his maturity.

* * *

As the rain poured down on a wet August day Draco taught Hermione how to play Gobstones. Apparently it was a children's game in the Wizarding World. He was trying to teach her as many as possible before the baby arrived, not wanting her to raise his heir on muggle games, of course. He didn't warn her that when she lost the game gloop would explode all over her! "Draco!" She shrieked, wiping it away from her hand with a wide swipe across her face. "Why would I subject my child to this?"

"Because it's classic fun!" He argued, avoiding laughter only with visible effort. "Unless you're not a real witch..." She chucked the green stuff at him instead of onto the floor, cackling like Parkinson at the way it slid off his face, leaving it sticky. "Someone's clearly a sore loser," he observed in a holier than thou tone.

She shrugged. "Maybe I just don't want you to miss out on all the fun!"

Their day was interrupted, as ever, by the arrival of a grey owl. Hermione swallowed hard, but it was for Draco, not her. No matter how much she might want to peer over and read it, that would have been incredibly hypocritical. She wrapped her hands around the undersides of the chair, clinging on for something to do. Her interest only piqued as she watched her husband's face screw up in surprise and then disgust. "Interesting post?" She asked casually.

He pushed the letter across to her. "It's Theo. He's a damn genius at charms and my father knows it. He's trying to recruit him to make new time-turners, this time ones that would allow him to travel back for longer than five minutes."

"What?" Hermione grabbed the letter, but it provided little more answers than Draco had summarised. "Why would your father be so desperate for a time-turner? How would he even do that?"

"I can think of any number of sinister reasons..." he mused. "My guesses are probably all wrong. My father is the quintessential Slytherin."

She glanced at the letter again. "Oh Godric..." he could do anything with something that powerful in his hands. He could make sure they were never paired up. He could kill her. And it would mess everything up in the process. But he wouldn't get to. Because now they knew. The perfect leverage. The snake had made one cocky misstep too far in trusting that Theo would be more ambitious than fraternal to his long time friend. A smile threatened to spill across her face, so she had to fake a cough and turn her head. Time to get writing.

* * *

 _Dearest Father-in-Law,_

 _Wasn't it wonderful that you steered clear of Azkaban for a second time? I would hate to see you go back for even the smallest of crimes now that so many in the Ministry would love to see you crumble. I suppose illegal time turners would qualify? Don't worry, I'll stay quiet, even to Draco and Narcissa about our past 'agreement'. I know how difficult your short time in prison was on them, but they're not my main worry. If I have to, I'll gladly see you off to a dark cell and support your family with my own up-and-coming career. You don't want that though, do you? All you have to do to avoid it is back off. We return to the deal you made with Draco and I, so that he never knows. Your welcome for the kindness of even giving you that._

 _Hoping the day finds you well,_

 _Hermione Jean Malfoy_

She hoped the last name was like a final stab in the gut. The mudblood bint who was sullying his noble name, using her brains to defeat him. Let him suck on that.

* * *

Lucius was still waiting for a reply from Nott Jr. His old schoolmate's son was certainly talented, but his skills at replying quickly were not so admirable. Oh well, he could wait. Things were going better than ever for him. Sure, he'd soon have a half-breed creature for a grandchild, but it would get him back into society. Meanwhile he'd be developing the mechanism to let him go back and fix a few little things. He wasn't an idiot, he knew he couldn't make hugely substantial changes, but small things could add up to paradise. "Ah," he smirked in a way that mirrored his son's iconic one. Here was the owl. It dropped a letter into his hand, then bit him on the finger. Letting out a surprised yell, Lucius swatted angrily at the disgusting vermin, cursing it under its breath as it squawked away into the night. Honestly he'd always preferred contact through the Floo Network, no need to deal with those pesky wretches. So many wizards seemed to love them though. Anyway, here was the ticket to his future. Victoriously, he ripped open the seal and yanked out the letter, but his face fell and his blood boiled as he read the words. That mudblood bint.

 ** _AN: Haha. Sorry this is so short but it's pretty satisfying, amiright?_**


	22. Chapter XVIV

**_Chapter XVIV:_**

 ** _AN: Two days in a row! And this is a big one..._**

A month after she sent the letter the only response Hermione received was a curt "well-played" comment at the dinner Narcissa insisted on them attending for her birthday. The Malfoy matriarch made it clear that she was highly invested in this child and wanted to see them often. Unlike her husband, the blonde woman had shown herself to be genuine in this yearning, so Hermione readily agreed. Narcissa or her own parents would be called upon first to babysit whenever they had plans, or if Draco ever decided to pursue this work interest he'd expressed.

A couple of days later her husband announced that he was going to see his friends. She waved him off, absolutely fine with getting some personal time. Truly, a spa night was needed. Scorpius/Seraphina had been battering her with their legs and magic again relentlessly, after a period of calm. It had started mid-morning and continued on all day. She'd only given herself a face mask when she had to go to for an (increasingly frequent) toilet break. Looking down at her pants her breath caught in her throat as she saw the red tinged discharge and remembered Millicent's miscarriage. "No, no, no!" She whispered in despair. Springing into action, she rushed downstairs to the fireplace and contacted the Notts. She'd warmed considerably to the intelligent Slytherin since he'd saved her soul, and when his face appeared in the flames he grinned charismatically at her. "Hello Hermione, how are you?"

"Fan-flipping-tastic," she bit out. "Could you please tell Draco to get to the St Mungo's as soon as possible?"

His eyebrows furrowed. "I would darlin', but he's not here."

She felt dizzy all of a sudden, but she didn't have time for his secrecy. "Thank you anyway Theodore, please send him if he ever shows up." She hung up the fireplace contact, scribbled a passive-aggressive note and left it in Draco's place at the dining table, then apparated to the hospital. That left her feeling even more sick, and by the time she stumbled into a hospital bed she was excitedly anticipating her promised epidural.

"How far along are you?" Asked the medi-witch with a clipboard.

"28 weeks," Hermione said. Epidural. Epidural. Epidural. She could hold out. And the baby would be fine.

"Um," she looked nervous now as she held the epidural in her right hand and asked, "Right here?"

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "You're the midwife."

"No-one at this hospital has ever had one of these muggle medications!" She said defensively. Hermione shut her eyes as the tube was inserted. She should have gone to a muggle hospital. Ooh, okay, calmness. She felt much better. There we- as quickly as it had been delivered, the calm dissipated once more.

"What's going on?" Hermione grilled the woman anxiously. She shook her head, unable to offer any immediate answers. "Is it being sucked back up the tube?"

Her midwife muttered something and did a scan with her wand, then looked apologetic. "I'm so sorry, this isn't going to work. Your child is draining the medication."

What? "Will that hurt it?"

"I don't expect so,"

"Is this what would happen with all witches or just me?"

"No way to know for sure."

Her Ravenclaw side was silenced by a contraction and she cursed her good-for-nothing snake of a husband. Where the hell was he when she needed him?

* * *

At his mother's birthday Draco hadn't missed his father's whispered aside to Hermione, even if they both thought he had. He watched them with the eye of a hawk for the rest of a night but they didn't interact once between then and when the two returned back home. He had told her he had let go of the secret she'd been hiding from him, but that was when he thought it was some silly thing between the Golden Trio. Having ascertained that the two dumb-dumbs were as clueless as ever, he was now fairly sure it was something more sinister. He spent a couple of days trying to work out what it could have been but with the letter destroyed there really were no leads. Except live ones. In reciprocity to their ban on the Floo network and apparition towards his father, the older wizard had done the same. Draco had to request access, which his mother, the one who picked up, readily granted. He kissed her on the cheeks in welcome and then snuck up to his father's office and disarmed the unprepared man.

"Draco, what do you think you're doing?" That tone would have terrified him when he was a boy. Fine. It still did, but he had to put away his childish fears for her. He cast a spell to bind his father to the chair he was so leisurely sitting in. The mirror of what he could easily become leered back at him. "You think you're more powerful than me, boy?" As he spat out the last word, it nearly sent Draco reeling back into a feature length film of every weakness he'd ever shown against this Titan. He bit down on his front teeth, controlling his emotions. He could argue back, he could cower, or he could concentrate all his energy into making this villain suffer. Option three it was then. Draco pointed his wand at the man who'd hurt him for so many years and whispered an unrepeatable curse, watching with full delight as the smirk faded into a scowl and then a downright pained grimace. He wanted to hear him scream. He wouldn't stop until he did.

"I presume your dirty little harpy finally came clean, eh?" He knew Lucius was goading him, but the strength of the curse faltered at the reminder of all the secrecy. "Or maybe not." He chuckled. "So you're here to make me spill the beans then?" It wasn't the primary reinforcer, but if his father became so tortured that he began to blurt out all his sins that wouldn't be the worst thing. Now another curse. One that Severus has taught him, his godfather had always been an incredible innovator. This one twisted his father's bones back in his hand with a satisfying click, accompanied by a scream that was even better. "You know what, I'd love for you to know actually." Lucius chuckled, even as blood spilled out of his mouth from the next curse. He spat it out, and venomously revealed "your paragon of virtue agreed to discipline your son in the true way, just as I did with you."

Draco's wand dropped a little and his father leapt up, but he was instantly back on form. "Obviously you forced her into it. Hermione would never do something like that willingly, and you're a fool for thinking I would believe she ever could." He cast one final spell that would leave his father crumpled in a heap and then he turned to leave, praying never to see him again.

"Fool..."

"What was that?"

Lucius sat up, leaning against his desk for strength but still managing to force a sinister smirk. "You foolish idiot." Draco gritted his teeth. "You think she loves you? After what you've done-"

"Of course not!" He snapped. "But _I_ love _her_! That's enough." He shook his head, done engaging with this manipulator. Time to get home.

* * *

"Hermione?" Draco called out when he got back to find the house surprisingly quiet. "Hermione!" He tried again, his panic mounting, but he'd left his father in no fit state to come here on a rampage. He had conducted a search of the entire house before Winky appeared waving some paper. "Not now Winky." He snapped at the elf who'd only ever been helpful and kind. He regretted it immediately. But she wasn't taking that.

"Yes now Master Malfoy!" She asserted, pushing it into his hands. "The mistress needs you!" He scanned the paper quickly and stumbled backwards when he realised what it implied. "She's having the baby now?"

"Yes!" Winky clapped her hands together delightedly.

Draco put a hand to his sweaty forehead, wiping away silver hair. "I-I'm going to be a father..."

"Yes!"

"And I'm missing it!" Immediately he apparated to St Mungo's, braced for the storm that was going to be coming his way. He could see the sunny days to come at the end of it.


	23. Chapter XVV

**_Chapter XVV:_**

 ** _AN: This is the last chapter apart from one flashforward! It's difficult to choose where to end this story but I thought the birth of their child would be a good place, as it's a new start for them, the ending of the flashforward also has a nice link to the marriage law. I'll try to get it out tomorrow. Let's get to 100 reviews!_**

 _"Draco fucking ferretface_ let go of my hand!" The heaving woman shrieked, then pulled him back. "You piece of shit!"

Ginny covered her infant son's ears with a little giggle. Draco wasn't amused. This fucking hurt! Maybe that was a little insensitive considering what his wife was going through, but she certainly seemed to seek to exact as much pain as she was drowning under. "One more push Mrs Malfoy!" Encouraged the midwife for the third time. Hermione flipped her off. "Really, I mean it this time!" And to be fair, Draco could see the head. Salazar that had been a fun conversation.

Draco ran into the room at full speed. "Did I miss it?"

"Only the first three hours," scowled a clearly un-muggle medicated Hermione. He couldn't hide his pleasure.

Hovering awkwardly beside her, he moved his hands uncertainly to either side. "Should I move up, down?"

"Wherever you want," She gulped down some of the water Ginny had brought her, otherwise ignoring him. "That's what you always do anyway."

He raised a confused eyebrow. "I don't want you to be uncomfortable."

She fixed her glare on him once again. "Are you kidding me? You're kidding me. Even you aren't that much of an idiot."

"Don't worry about that," said the midwife with an anxious smile. "Labouring women get like this."

"Don't tell me what I get like!" Draco thought she was going to throw her plastic cup at the poor woman. "He's an arsehole and he always has been! It's not me, it's him!"

It was a tiny head, and an even tinier body. A little baby girl's body. "Yes!" Hermione exclaimed victoriously. "That'll teach you to be a know-it-all prick." A girl. He didn't know what to do with a girl! How was he supposed to raise a girl? What did girls even want? Then she looked at him with familiar amber eyes and he felt his broken heart begin to knit together again. "Is she alright?" Asked Hermione worriedly, cradling the pink bundle as if it were the Crown Jewels. She was. She was better. His little girl.

The midwife nodded. She'd been a good sport with all the screaming Hermione had done at her. They should get her a card, or some flowers, maybe chocolate. He wasn't sure what was social etiquette in this situation. His Pureblood lessons hadn't taught him that. "They usually survive from week 28, and she's strong, not just a good weight; she released some magic when we weighed her, nothing huge," she inserted, when the two of them both widened their eyes. "Little sparks. The lights flickered briefly. She's very powerful, but it's nothing to worry about. It should calm down in a few hours, although little spurts will be common throughout childhood."

"Oh thank Godric." Hermione grabbed his hand, this time with a companionable rather than a violent grip. "I've been so worried with all this magic she's been displaying in my stomach."

Draco turned to her. "You didn't tell me that was still going on. I thought it stopped before the end of term."

She looked momentarily guilty, but not for long. "You didn't tell me lots of things either."

"I'll be heading to my next patient," announced the midwife, leaving the two of them and the snoring baby.

"I know you weren't at Theo's today."

"No." He snapped. "I was at Malfoy Manor punishing my father for trying to make you hurt our child!"

"How did you find out about that? What have you been snooping in?"

Their yelling woke up the now existing child, who immediately began to cry. They both looked down with the distinct feeling that they were off to a bad start with their parenting. Draco fussed with the blankets as Hermione pulled down her shift. "What are you doing?"

"Feeding her like Pomfrey said! What do you think I'm doing? Stripping for the fun of it? I don't do this for your enjoyment. In fact I'd prefer it if you looked away." He did so, but he could hear her helping the baby to suckle like they'd learnt in BAM. "This is more awkward. Just look." He did so. "Well don't stare!"

"Salazar!" He exhaled. He looked at Seraphina instead. She was perfect. Really. All fathers said that. But his baby was the best. And quiet now too. "I didn't snoop." He said quietly. "Whilst I was torturing him he tried to torture me by putting a wedge between us, but I didn't care. I know that he's the only one of you who's evil. As should you."

She sighed. "Maybe not evil, but I was nutty to go along with it. I should have figured out how to get out sooner."

"But it sounds like you did."

"I did."

"Then you really _are_ the swot I always thought you were."

She scoffed, but her eyes seemed pleased, even more so when she looked down at Seraphina again. "No more secrets. We're in this together from now on."

He dusted his hand along the tiny sprig of blonde hair. "Okay."

* * *

Hermione was understandably exhausted so it was left to Draco to give the news to friends and family. The other two thirds of the Golden Trio were lounging in the waiting room, along with Ginny and Blaise. Wide eyed, Hermione's parents were glancing around every time something magical happened, whilst his own sat on the other side of the room with a leg crossed over the other, not talking to one another nor anyone else. "Mother and baby are both healthy and doing well!" He announced somewhat awkwardly, shocked and uncomfortable when his wife's compatriots embraced him in a group hug. "Get off me you two oafs!"

"Welcome to the family Ferret!" Announced the weasel.

"We're still watching you," warned Pothead. "But Hermione seems much better recently, so keep on treating her right and we won't have any reason not to give you the occasional hug."

"Please don't." He deadpanned, but he was glad others thought he was doing better. Maybe it meant he was.

"Congratulations son!" Draco looked up in surprise as Hermione's father held out a hand for shaking and then shook his head and instead hugged him as well, followed by his wife doing the same. Too many hugs today. Hold on: son? His father had glanced over with an unreadable expression, he wasn't even sure if it was because he was hugging a muggle or because someone else had just called him 'son' with an emotion other than disdain. He wasn't sure how he felt about it either. The Grangers certainly didn't seem as stupid as the idiotic imps of the heroic Wizarding fairytales his father had made the house elves read him as a child. Those muggles had been one of the only sources of his laughter, but it had been cruel humour even then. "So when can we go see our grand..."

Oh. He hurriedly clarified, "daughter," watching as the Grangers clapped with delight. His eyes cut across to his own parents for their reactions; a soft smile from his mother, a relieved exhale from his father. Clearly the reality of a mudblood heir was more threatening than he'd let on. He ushered Hermione's parents in, followed in a more contained manner by his nonetheless excited mother, relieved when his father didn't make a move towards the door. If he had his way, Lucius would never get within three feet of his little angel. That was probably too much to hope for though.


	24. Flashforward IV

_**Flashforward IV:**_

 _ **AN: Sorry this is late but I actually realised I've got two more flashforwards to post not just the one. Also, it meant we got to exactly 100 reviews, yay!**_

"Sera hon!" called Draco, pulling her up onto his lap as Hermione switched off the TV when it came to the end of their daughter's favourite programme. This was the best time to tell her news where they either knew it would be bad or weren't sure how she would respond. This was one of the latter situations. "Mummy and I need to tell you something exciting."

The spoiled little girl grinned and clapped her hands together. "Am I getting a Nimbus 3000?" She asked excitedly. She'd been obsessed with the idea of riding a broom just like Daddy's ever since Narcissa had gotten her son the unreleased model for his last birthday, and he'd proceeded to invite his friends and school rivals around for matches frequently. Hermione maintained that her daughter would not be riding on one of those death traps until she went to Hogwarts, causing her to have a tantrum. She didn't mind being the boring parent if it meant Sera avoided smashing her little head open or breaking her arm like Harry had done.

"No sweetie," Hermione touched her already slightly protruding stomach, they'd wanted to be sure before they broke the news to their temperamental daughter. "You're getting a new little brother or sister.

The little innocent face clouded over with anger as both the TV and the stand it was on began to rattle. Ever since she was born she'd proven to have strong powers, but as with all magical children, they were linked to her emotions. Over the years she'd broken a lot of objects in their house, and once even the same chandelier that had been broken in the skirmish at her grandparent's manor long before she was born. "Sera..." said Hermione in a tentative yet stern voice. "Calm down." Her lip trembled like an autumn leaf and then she buried her face in her father's chest and sobbed. Things had stopped shaking, so Hermione got down on her knees beside the two blondes. Draco extricated his daughter from his embrace, still wrapping his arms around her like a comforting blanket, but making sure she faced her mother. "Baby, why are you so upset? You love playing with little Lily and Marco. Wouldn't you like a playmate of your own? You could help us with the baby, and when it's a bit older you could teach it things, and play hide and seek"

"But I like playing hide and seek with you Mummy!" Sera cried. "I don't want you to spend all your time with the new baby."

Hermione took her daughter's hands and wiggled them up and down, looking into her eyes. "I love playing with you too, Sera!" She declared. "I won't lie to you, I'm going to be more tired with this pregnancy and then the baby keeping us awake when it arrives, but I'll still try and play with you, and so will Daddy."

"Promise?" Asked the five year old seriously as though she was asking for an Unbreakable Oath.

"Promise."

* * *

She knew from talking to Ginny and Daphne that the second pregnancy would be different, but that didn't mean she wasn't surprised when she felt the baby kick almost ten weeks earlier. "Draco! Sera!" She called out from her position lounging in the garden. She'd been eating a bowl of ice cream with baked beans instead of her usual favourite caramel sauce- don't ask, it made her family want to throw up- nervously watching them mount a broom. Draco had cornered her when her hormones were making her very agreeable, and with a bit of... persuasion, managed to convince her to let Sera ride on a broom if he sat behind her. Despite his elation to teach Sera the joys of flying, Draco excitedly dropped his new model broom on the grass and ran over to her, carrying the five year old who had at first seemed put-out by the baby stealing the moment she'd been looking forward to. Guiltily, Hermione wondered if she should have pretended not to have felt anything until her daughter had gotten to zip around the garden a couple of times, but Draco was truly excellent with her. He guided her palm to Hermione's stomach first before he placed his own there. "Can you find your brother or sister?" After the embarrassment of his false certainty five years ago, this time around he was being a little more flexible. He was still gunning for Scorpius for a boy, and they'd decided on Sierra, meaning saw-toothed but sounding effortlessly elegant, for a girl. The girl who'd moments ago been distressed squealed as she marked X on the spot with a jab that made Hermione's face briefly contort.

"I found them!"

Draco chuckled at the look on his wife's face and ruffled his daughter's hair.

* * *

In the birthing wing at St Mungo's Hermione held her baby boy with pride. She glanced at Sera, peering into the blankets curiously whilst trying to appear casual and uncaring. "Want to hold him?"

The now six year old gasped, her eyes widening comically as if this was the stupidest suggestion her mother had ever given. "What if I drop him?"

"We're wizards! We'll catch him before he bangs his head!" Laughed Draco, at the same time as Hermione reassured,

"You won't." She glared at her husband.

"Oh yes, that too."

Sera giggled. Taking a deep breath, she held out her arms for the baby, moulding them to her parent's suggestion before Hermione placed Scorpius down. Sera studied her brother intently. His newborn skin might be pruny but his eyes were the same amber as hers, his little sprig of hair the same shade of platinum blond, his nose the same shape, only miniature edition. "Isn't he adorable?" Asked Hermione expectantly.

Decidedly, Sera looked up with a smile. "He is."

Emerging from the corridor where she'd been chatting casually with the Grangers, Narcissa produced a camera and beamed at them, happiness making her look effortless and youthful even with the grey that had been in her hair for a long time now. "Smile!"

The family looked up from each other to the shutter, already mirroring her expression, save Scorpius, who had drifted off to sleep in his sister's arms. Sometimes a muggle snapshot could be just as a good as a magical moving image.


	25. Flashforward V

_**Flashforward IV:**_

 _ **AN: Sorry this is late but I actually realised I've got two more flashforwards to post. They're going up together though, so here ya go!**_

 ** _Flashforward V:_**

 ** _AN: Thank you so much for every one of your reviews, favourites and follows. I've really enjoyed writing this story and I hope you guys have enjoyed reading it. I'm working on a couple of other Dramiones but I'm not really sure if they'll ever manifest. Keep an eye out for them if you're interested though, and I've got a couple of others up already :)_**

Hermione's mouth dropped open and she clutched the pounding spot of her head that was rapidly spreading due to the blonde wearing boho jean shorts and a crop top. "Sera, go put on another five layers." She was at her wits end already panicking about forgetting things and this was just unnecessary.

Sera's hands went to her hips and she called out "Dad!" Hermione fixed her with a look that said 'stop that right now'. Instead, her daughter fixed Draco with her biggest puppy dog eyes and simpered, "don't you think I look pretty?"

"Gorgeous hon," Hermione's eyes shot lasers at him. "But your mum's right. We're going to Oslo this time, not San Sebastián."

"But Daddy," The fifteen year old whined. "San Sebastián was so hot. I go to school in Scotland! I get enough cold weather. What's the point of a holiday where I'm just freezes my fingers off?"

"Tell you what sweetheart," Draco offered. "Next year you can choose our destination." The laser eyes were back on him- it was her turn to choose from his bucket list of destinations they had to visit as a family before the kids flew the nest. "Or maybe the year after that?" Sera huffed but she could see that she was beaten so she reluctantly left to go change. With a shake of her head and a similar sound to the one her daughter had just made, Hermione turned back to the suitcases. She felt her husband coming up behind her but ignored him, even when he put his arms around her waist and started kissing her neck. At least... she ignored him for a good half a minute. "Stop it!" She flipped around so that he got a face full of hair.

"You've packed and re-packed three times babe," he reminded her. "Besides, we're wizards. If we forgot our toothbrushes we can just pop back and get them."

"You know I like to completely relax on holiday! No magic!" She leant back into him with a sigh. Sera was so argumentative with her these days. And Scorpius always seemed to be on an edge with Draco, never rebellious, but afraid, which was worse. At least their children each had one parent they got along well with. Plenty of teens and pre-teens didn't even have that.

* * *

After a day of Norwegian exploring the Malfoys settled into their rented igloo. Hermione curled up with Draco on their double bed and they stared up at the colours illuminating the sky. Out of their usual environment, the kids had both been acting more uninhibited: squeezing in close for pictures; laughing when sauce from his Krumkake squirted all over their Dad's face; building a snow wizard with a little stick as a wand but a beanie instead of a traditional pointed hat. They'd played Exploding Snap that night after dinner and there'd been no groans from Sera or stammering from Scorp. She wiggled in closer to her husband, resting her head on his chest and whispering to each other quietly about the natural beauty all around them. "Just like you," he murmured and began kissing up her neck, receiving giggles that blocked out the knock on the door and the call of "Mummy?"

Scorpius peered around the door, his face immediately going red. "Oh, sorry." He started to close the door but Hermione shoved Draco off her and sat up straight.

"No, go ahead Scorp."

He clearly didn't want to anymore, but he shuffled forwards a little and asked "how do the northern lights work? Why are they here?"

Hermione smirked, a plan quickly forming. "I don't know," she falsely admitted. Actually, she'd asked Draco the same thing a couple of moths ago and was now just as expert as him on the topic. "You'd have to ask Daddy." As the resident well-travelled, worldly expert in the family, this was an incredibly smooth way to let the two bond, and she was proud of herself for not imparting her knowledge like she wanted to. She loved teaching her kids things, but this was a sacrifice for the greater good. Leaving Draco to explain about particles striking atoms, she snuck out of the bed and knocked on the next door. With an invitation in, she stepped over the threshold. Sera was staring up at the Aurora as well. Knowing they'd been looking at the same natural miracle made her feel connected. These weren't the creation of a wand like the Dark Mark that used to light up the sky, and she was so glad her children could see something beautiful rather than dangerous above them. "Good day?" She asked. "Even if it's not San Sebastián?"

Sera rolled her eyes and returned in an obligatory voice "yes Mum." But her eyes were still shining with wonder. "I feel bad for people who don't get to travel. It's so enriching, and exciting."

Hermione sat down on the bed, lying down so she was facing her daughter. "Before I married your dad I'd never left the UK, but that didn't mean I hadn't had done amazing adventures." Sera knew all about her adventures. She was quite tired of hearing about them from fans at school desperate for her mother's autograph on their chocolate frog cards.

"Not everyone gets as many quests in their youth as you Mum."

Hermione chuckled. "I could have done with a few less to be honest. Especially in my exam years." Sera had her O.W.L's this year. She'd been studying hard, but thankfully not worrying as much as Hermione had done. She wouldn't wish that on anyone.

"But if you hadn't been fighting against the Dark you wouldn't have gotten together with Dad. Scorp and I wouldn't exist." Sera wasn't just book smart, she also knew that her parents would never have gotten together without the war. Despite the love that they now shared, she could read between the lines and knew that they hadn't originally been each others' first choice. "The marriage law's pretty great, isn't it? I can't wait for my assignment." Sera was grinning now. It was shocking how much the new generation accepted the law they'd been born into, despite the fact that their parents had been so horrified by it.

Hermione was going to have to break the news. There was no way she could lie to her daughter who was so excited about this. "Actually, Kingsley and I have made the decision to suspend the law with immediate effect this year." As Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement she worked with the minister. The general Wizarding population of Great Britain had reached the level he had set out sixteen years ago, so as promised it was time for it to end. Time for people to get their free will back.

Sera's face dropped. "Oh." Hermione had to admit that things had worked out well for her and most of her friends, save Ron, whose wife had divorced him on their five year anniversary and immediately sought primary custody of the twins. Thankfully she'd failed. Either way, surely Sera could see that life wasn't supposed to be dictated to you. You should get to fall in love and then get married and start a family, not the other way around.

"It's going to be better baby," she whispered, stroking Sera's hair softly. "It's going to be real."

 _ **The End... sort of. Feel free to fill in the gaps with your mind!**_


	26. Fanfiction Awards

Hi guys! The Colloquially Termed Marriage Law was nominated for the Beyond the Book Fanfiction Nook Summer Awards 2018! Voting is open until the 11th of November and if you guys want to vote that would be really cool!

Here's the link to vote (remove the *'s): ht*tps:*/*/do*cs.*/for*ms/d/e/1FAIpQLS*f9h-zaH8sTTErFV0GU_R1bCLNUDW-HszRzcuHJ7Ikk3lCZbA/*viewform?usp=sf*_*link

Also, I'm about to start posting a new Dark Dramione called the Long Game. Harry and Hermione will be Voldemort's children seeking revenge for the Order killing their mother. Check it out if it sounds interesting to you :)


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